Through The Glass, In Shades Of Black
by Svetlana Morealt
Summary: A mission gone wrong leaves Chris frustrated, so he turns to the gym to blow off steam after hours… And after downing a few too many drinks. Piers seeks to comfort him, even if the price of doing so leaves him shattered. Nivanfield, dark themes.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a heavily _experimental_ fic that focuses on the darker side of Chris in his drunken state, and how Piers tries to deal with it the more overbearing it becomes. Incredibly dark themes (Chris can be an ass) that _vastly_ differentiate from my normal fics, so you may want to turn back if that bothers you. Undecided when exactly this takes place, I also have no idea where the hell my muse for this came from. O_o Believe it or not this started off more lighthearted, but then it turned into… Erm, this. I think we can blame drunk!Chris for making an unexpected appearance that sent everything downhill (in which case I had to revamp a few parts at the beginning by the time I finished to make it fit). :c Let me know if anyone wants me to lengthen this into a two shot/series.**

* * *

It was almost odd being there after hours.

Where normally there were heated bodies pumping themselves in a rhythm suited to mold their masses into strengthened muscle, there was instead an empty room; dark, quiet. The mission Alpha had recently returned from earlier that day hadn't gone as planned; in simple terms, it was a dead end. A failure. The frustration that ensued was more than enough to keep the S.O.U. Captain on his feet and far from even considering any form of sleep. So he stayed, the B.S.A.A. had their own gym for workouts and training, which to say given the current need for a stress relief, had been perfect.

Chris made his way around the room, occasionally stopping at a few of the machines to warm up before he inevitably found himself near the back where he set the chosen amount of weight and laid himself down on the bench, hands reaching up to grip over the bar above. Even for a man with his build, he pushed it, stretching himself past his own high limits and it was precisely what he needed.

"It wasn't your fault," A familiar voice insisted from the side, nearly startling him into losing his hold. The younger man had a way of getting around without being noticed; as quiet as a shadow, as invisible as a freshly cleaned pane of glass. It was part of his job, however. To see without being seen.

"Not now, Piers." He was stern, the last thing he needed was to go back over the day's events.

"Things like this happen, they don't always go as planned. But you already know that." Stubborn, ever since the day he'd met him.

Chris sighed, jaw tensed. He refrained from replying, arm muscles overworking themselves as they pumped the weight above him, then back down. He'd lost count of how many times he'd done it, but frankly the amount wasn't the point; not that day. He planned on working himself until his body gave way from the exhaustion, he needed the shove and he needed to clear his head. The shots he had earlier from the booze he stashed away hidden in his office hadn't done the trick, only left him more on edge.

"We'll find a way to fix it."

Chris could have sworn he felt a tooth crack from how hard he was biting down.

"Captain, you need to stop."

And do what? Talk? That was the last thing he was interested in. Chris kept up his movements, body sleeked over with a sheen of sweat that matted the fabric of his clothing against his skin. His limbs were on fire but it wasn't enough.

"Are you even listening?"

The resulting slam of the bar back on its rack would have jostled any normal person into staggering back from the surprise as the Captain sat up, eyes digging holes into the sniper who stood firm, unfazed by the intensity rolling off the older man in heated waves.

"Go home, Piers. I don't want to hear it."

"Not until you have, Captain."

Both of them kept their ground, Chris clearly allowing anger and frustration to take a toll while Piers held a much calmer demeanor. To say the ace wasn't any less agitated over the situation would be a lie; the mission had them all on edge, but it hit the Captain specifically rather hard.

Chris sneered before he lowered himself back onto the bench. "I'm not done yet. If you want to stay then fine, but don't talk."

Thankfully for the next few minutes that went by, it had appeared as though the younger man had actually chose to listen, that was until he'd felt a shift in pressure and a body seating itself over top of him, perfectly bubbled ass tight against his groin. He grunted at the contact.

"Piers-"

"I wasn't talking."

The sniper could feel the heat emanating from the other man, enough to match the ferocity of his voice. Deft hands sought out the bottom of his Captain's shirt, pushing it inch by inch up over the sweat glossed skin. The body below seemed to tense itself further, but stubbornly, Chris did his best to ignore him. It did nothing to stop his ATL, instead it acted almost as an encouragement.

Piers let his fingers dance across the ripples of muscle, tracing the surface of the meaty torso under him with almost ticklish soft caresses that descended toward the belt and paused to fumble with it as he rotated his hips, grinding his ass over the shielded bulge that grew under the friction and combined tension the Captain was building over himself with every lift of the bar. The rise of his chest each time Chris inhaled became more frequent under the duress of trying to pay as little attention as possible to the actions of the other man. He was gradually making it more and more difficult.

Piers unhooked the buckle and stood up from his seated position so he could gain a more clear access to the zipper, which he made sure to lower slowly so as to emphasise the sound of the teeth parting themselves, putting him one step closer to the growing length hidden under the confines. He slid downward, reseating himself this time on the Captain's legs so he could fumble his fingers into the opening, grasping a hold over the thick cock to pull it free.

Hazel eyes flickered up in search of brown, but the other man stubbornly avoided his gaze. Well, one was just as equally stubborn as the other. Piers stroked nimble fingers across the length, giving it a single sharp tug before he bent himself forward to lick the tip. It was slow going at first, his tongue drew small circles that led down to the underside of the head, causing the Captain to shift slightly.

Chris swallowed, choking down any sounds that wanted to break free from his throat as the ace took him deeper into his mouth, slick walls pinching inward to tighten the sensation around his length as that greedy tongue flicked itself across the sensitive organ to further heighten the feeling. A hand wrapped firmly around the base, pumping in light strokes once the younger man started to bob his head.

The Captain was having trouble keeping his sense of concentration, arms wanting to give way so that he could focus more on thrusting himself deeper into those parted lips where that warm, welcoming tongue traced the bulging veins across the thickening girth. He breathed heavily through flaring nostrils, eyes fluttering themselves shut with his mouth closed tight, trying harder now to keep himself quiet.

The hand at his base adjusted itself lower, slipping through the folds of clothing to grasp around his scrotum with a soft squeeze as that perfectly formed mouth lowered itself until he felt every inch enveloped in saliva coated walls.

_Damn_ him. Chris slammed the bar down in its proper place and sat up, one hand immediately grabbing a hold over the back of the ace's head, fingers tightening almost painfully around short strands of brown as he forced the movements over his cock. He yanked at the soft locks gripped between his digits to pull that mouth toward his tip, only to shove it back down over the span of his length while he simultaneously thrusted himself forward, effectively gagging the younger man as he face fucked him. A low growl emanated from the depths of the Captain's throat at the feeling, but he was relentless.

Piers had brought it on himself.

Chris held him against his base, cock twitching as it rested in the back of his throat. The younger man had moved his hands to clasp at muscular hips in an attempt to regain some form of control so he could come up for air, but the hand over the back of his head held him firmly. His nostrils were plugged air tight against the skin above the groin where he couldn't breathe, skin tone changing to a lighter hue at the lack of oxygen and invading force stuffed down his throat.

Just as spots started to dot along his vision, so close to passing out that Piers thought he would suffocate, the hand at the base of his skull pulled him back with a shove that had him falling to the side of the bench on the floor, coughing and sputtering as his lungs greedily hungered for air.

"Get undressed." It was a command wrapped in the familiar tone Chris would use when giving orders as Captain. Piers rubbed at his throat with one hand as he attempted to steady his breathing, staring momentarily up at the other man who watched him impatiently before he started to tug at his jacket, slipping the fabric free from his shoulders where he tossed it aside. Satisfied that he obeyed, Chris began pulling at his own clothing until they were both nude.

The Captain repositioned himself, his back against the bar he'd spent so much time lifting as he motioned for the ace to come closer. Still a bit lightheaded, Piers did as instructed and threw one leg over the bench, facing away from the other man as he lowered himself into a crouch, pucker exposed for the Captain's thick girth. One hand was placed at the side of the bench, gripping along the padded surface to steady himself as the other arm was raised over and behind Chris' head to clutch the bar the older man leaned against, if only for leverage.

"You might not like this, Piers." Chris warned as he pumped a hand over the length of his own penis, lining up the tip with the tightened hole that hovered just above.

"I wouldn't be here if I couldn't handle it." If Chris needed a hard stress relieving fuck, Piers would endure no matter what the consequences were. Anything to help his Captain.

"Your call," Chris didn't offer a second chance before he grabbed the ace by the hip with his free hand and forced him down onto his shaft, impaling the young sniper over his length without preparation. The ensuing scream bounced off the walls in an echo that reflected back at them as Piers threw his head behind him, eyes squeezed tight with an open mouth that cried at the abuse. He knew it would happen, knew it would hurt. But he did it, not for his own aching body, but for his Captain.

Chris grunted at the tightening around his cock, the muscles tore themselves to give him passage into that dark channel where red seeped out to cover his organ in blood. With his other hand now unoccupied, it repositioned itself over the opposite hip in a bruising grip that he used to lift the lean body upwards over the scale of his cock until the head threatened to slip free. He paused there, listening to the quiet whimpers of the man in his arms before pulling him back down, cramming himself into the twitching orifice.

Chris was angry and he was drunk. He was also pumped out on adrenaline. None of them were a good combination, and the beautiful screams from his young protege did nothing to sway the feelings as his ass muscles clenched around the invading girth in a reflexive attempt to force it out.

"I'm not doing all the work for you, Piers. Start moving," The hiss in his ear hardly sounded like the Captain he knew; in a way, it wasn't. The man was always dangerously aggressive after drinking, he'd already found that out the hard way once before. He'd hoped it would have been different that time. The frustration from their failure only intensified the feeling, making him much less susceptible to pleas or mercy. There would be no loving touches, no soft kisses. Just hard, brutal fucking, all so he could get off just to throw the ace aside like some sort of rag doll until he cleared his head. Piers hated when he got that way, hated what the drink did to him. But he never turned his back when his Captain was in need, even if the costs were high.

Piers inhaled unsteadily, rasping at the unwanted feeling settling inside the walls of his anus. A shudder crept down his spine as he braced himself, tensing his arms to slowly lift his body off the cock with another pained whimper. He curled his lip inward to tug it between his teeth before he lowered himself back down, feeling the tear in his opening with every movement.

"You'll have to do better than that," The voice was back in his ear, the scent of booze flowing outward with it to waft through the air. "I've heard you scream like a whore before, now you can ride like one." It wasn't his Captain, it wasn't his Captain, it wasn't, wasn't-

"Move!"

Piers yelped as a hand grasped a tightening hold over his scrotum and painfully twisted, threatening to damage him. It hurt, almost on par with the tear in his ass. The combination had him openly sobbing in his Captain's lap.

He could do this - all he had to do was give one night. One night to calm Chris down until he snapped out of it and returned to normal. One night, then he could forget about everything and move on.

For Chris.

Hesitantly at first, he raised himself back off the twitching member before thrusting back down with an outcry.

_Chris, Chris, Chris..._

Why did he have to do that? Why did it have to be this way?

He moved again, impaling himself repetitively over the throbbing shaft until he heard the older man groaning somewhere between his own wails. He wanted it to be over with, wanted things back to normal. But they weren't, and wishing never did a damn thing.

"Good boy," Chris cooed in his ear through grunts, as though talking to some animal. Was that what he was now? He almost felt like it. The hand at his sac finally released its hold, and barely a moment later he found himself being lifted off the Captain's lap and thrown once again down onto the floor. He groaned, body curling in on itself as Chris stood up and shuffled off somewhere nearby.

Piers wasn't sure how long it was before he was hoisted off the floor by a hand tugging through his hair, but just as the world began to stabilize itself, he found himself bent forward over the bar, eyes fluttering at the sight of the bench below. He heard movement from behind and prepared himself for the worst, but a cooling sensation winding over his skin had his eyes seeking out whatever it was.

It looked like some sort of resistance tube the Captain was tying over him, binding his arm down against his leg to keep him in that position, lurched over the end of the bar that pressed uncomfortably at his stomach. The opposite arm and leg were restrained in the same fashion, leaving the ace rather unnerved at the exposure. He couldn't move, the angle prevented very little of that and he couldn't slip free; the tubes were much too tight against his flesh that he had almost no wiggle room.

Piers felt hands at his ass, kneading the cheeks with enough pressure to bruise. The air flow against his pucker made him shiver, the broken ring still tender after the abuse.

"You had a chance to walk away," The tone was taunting now as Chris drew a hand back to slap one of the bubbled mounds. Instantly it stung at the contact, the tint already shifting to a light red. He switched sides, a second smack landed on the opposite cheek. The sounds that his actions elicited from the young ace made him smile; soldier or not, he was still a boy in many ways.

"Nothing to say, Piers?" Chris didn't care if he was the one who told him to be quiet to begin with. He reached for those brown locks again to pull the sniper's head back, searching his pained features.

Piers blinked, eyes watery. "Captain, please... We can just leave, we can go home and-"

"I don't think so."

"Captain-"

Chris released his hold, allowing his head to drop. "Stop."

But Piers was insistent now, "You've had a lot to drink, you should try laying down. Maybe tomorrow you'll-" There was a tearing of fabric somewhere in the background, behind him where he couldn't see.

"Shut up," Piers had heard. Chris needed to make up his damn mind, first he told him to be quiet, then he wanted him to talk and now it was back to square one.

"Cap-mmf!" A hand reached around him, stuffing a balled up piece of one of their shirts into his open mouth and held it there until his own scarf was woven over his lips to seal it in, successfully muffling his noises.

"You never did learn proper discipline, soldier."

Piers felt something brush back against his ass, nudging at his entrance. He closed his eyes, head dipped forward as the cock slick with his own blood slipped itself back inside, once more spreading open his torn walls. There was a muffle against the fabric as he felt balls press against his cheeks, fully enveloped inside so deep he'd swear there was a visible outline of the dick on his stomach.

Chris pulled himself out and with no hesitation rammed back in, setting a bruising pace that had skin slapping against skin. His movements were quick and rough, anything but pleasant to the ace each time the thick cock forced its way into his bowels. The Captain was in it for his own pleasure, fighting for his own release with little to no concern given toward Piers, who couldn't contain the tears that formed at the corners of his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He despised the feeling, it made him seem weak when he was anything but. Even a soldier has his limits, however... And Piers wasn't sure which was worse; the pain itself, or that it was his beloved Captain who caused it.

At least he wouldn't remember. This far gone in his drinking stage, Chris never remembered.

To his surprise, the next thrust brushed up against something that had his body tingling, a pleasure he didn't think he could feel stirred inside him, enough for his limp cock to spring to life at the sensation. Piers groaned against the gag, feeling the meaty length inside him pass over it a second time.

It still hurt, his ass had been carelessly shredded, but each thrust against his prostate had pleasure mingling with the pain. He was openly moaning now from the combination, muffled by the fabric of his scarf as Chris plowed into him. Each movement had his body swaying against the bar with every push, drool leaking out from around the edges of the gag to drip onto the bench below. He hated how abused he was, hated how humiliated he felt. What he hated most was how some part of him was starting to enjoy the cruelty being forced onto him.

The cock inside him twitched as Chris groaned behind him, a few more pumps had the Captain filling the tight pucker with sticky fluids that spurted over his insides. Chris drove his dick in until it was dry, then pulled out completely. Piers shuddered at the feeling, gasping behind the gag the moment a hand reached around to his own aching length. "I thought you weren't enjoying this," Chris whispered to his ear as he gave a rough pump that had Piers thrusting into his fist, wanton cries muffled.

Chris smiled, satisfied with the sight. "That close already?" The heavy breaths and desperation confirmed it as he quickened his strokes over the weeping cock that brought him closer, closer- dwindling at the edge. "You haven't earned that yet." Chris removed his hold, leaving the sniper to whimper disappointingly with muffled pleas that urged him to continue. The footsteps told him just how unlikely that was, and the Captain came back into his view long enough to gather up his clothes.

Wait. He wasn't just going to-

"We have all night. I'll be back sometime after the next hour."

No, no, nonono-

"But one last thing," He dipped back out of sight. Piers tugged at the bindings, arms trying to free themselves to no avail. But then something was wrapped around his groin, pressing down over the skin in a tight, make-shift cock ring.

"Don't go anywhere, Piers."

After that, he was left with the sound of receding footsteps, the creak of a door as it opened, then the ensuing click as it shut and left him alone. Piers groaned, never having felt so helpless and humiliated in his life. He struggled, still unable to slip himself free from the restraints. He needed to get out, to get away. He couldn't stay there, couldn't face Chris again that night. Not after... After...

He should have never stayed, never been so insistent when he already knew what it could lead to. But Piers thought he could do it; he thought he could convince Chris to willingly do something in his drunken state.

Piers had never been so wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

Every muscle throbbed from the stress of the position. Piers felt the ache in his lower back at the odd angle, the bar against his abdomen as uncomfortable as ever. The more he tried to wiggle free, the tighter the bindings had seemed to get. Eventually, he stopped. His body still burned from the abuse, trapped there for he didn't know how long. Presumably, it was nearing two hours and the Captain still hadn't come back. Piers wasn't sure which was worse; being found by someone else, or having Chris stumble upon him after the effects of the booze dissipated. The later seemed improbable, however, given that he was almost positive that Chris had gone back to his office to down more of the liquid.

The balled up shirt inside his mouth was fully drenched, soaked all the way through with the saliva it absorbed. As it was, the fabric made it hard to swallow but he couldn't very well spit the damn thing out with the scarf wrapped against his lips. To make matters worse, he still felt the warmth of dripping semen over the insides of his thighs, sticking to the skin as it slowly dried. The tube Chris had wound over his groin kept him achingly hard, and with no way to fix it he'd been left to endure. Every movement had his cock brushing against his stomach, enough to cause a teasing friction, but never enough to sate him.

Piers perked up at the sound of the door, but was left unable to see it from his current positioning. He could only hope it wasn't someone else… Alpha would have a field day if they found him like that.

"Making yourself comfortable, Piers?"

He wasn't entirely sure whether to be grateful or not as the padding of footsteps came closer.

"You know, I considered leaving you here to let someone else clean up the mess," Piers felt a calloused hand cup over one of his ass cheeks, "But that would be a waste." The sniper gave a muffled yelp as the hand released its hold, only to slap back down on already reddened skin from similar treatment earlier.

He heard the shift of feet, and the Captain was back in view as he bent down to retrieve the discarded belt from the pile of clothing Piers had tossed aside when he'd been given the command. The ace could do little more than watch Chris come closer, once again disappearing from his view. A wave of panic washed over him as he considered the possibilities, but the thought process didn't last long before the belt was at his throat, clamping down over his airway. His body tensed, arms instinctively tugging at the bindings in search for a way out. He could almost feel the smirk from Chris, and the thought of seeing it in close proximity as his vision blurred to black was a painful one, it twisted something in his stomach and he just wanted out.

Even once the belt was loosened and he was able to breathe again after nearly being suffocated for the second time that night, Piers wanted it to stop. This wasn't Chris, it wasn't the man he'd been so obsessed over, wasn't the hero, the legend; he was a monster. Cruel, merciless, selfish. It wasn't often that Piers Nivans got scared, but right then, even after the restraints were undone and he was yanked off the bar by the strap over his throat, he was terrified. Not due to the promise of humiliation, not because he knew he was being brutalized.

Simply put, he was just afraid of Chris.

It was already hard when soldiers had to witness someone they care about get hurt on the field or worse, but seeing them change from a selfless hero to a violent madman; it was enough to make Piers wonder just what the Captain was really capable of.

No. No, he wasn't the same person. Piers couldn't let himself start to think like that.

A hand wove itself around to pull him tight against the muscled body at his back, strong fingers danced atop the surface of the belt before resting themselves against it, threatening to squeeze all on their own. Piers inhaled deeply, breath hitching just the slightest. With newly freed limbs, he raised them to grip at the forearm, a silent plea, all the while gentle not to anger Chris into tightening his hold. "Be a good boy now, Piers. I'm taking you back to my office." Warm breath brushed over skin, a hushed whisper with a threat evident behind the words. Piers closed his eyes at the sound. The night would be a long one, indeed.

The arm slid away from around the sniper and he was yanked off his feet by a hard pull of the belt that dropped him to the floor, hands instinctively going for the band around his throat as he was dragged by it. The hardened floor of the training room and hallways stretched at his skin uncomfortably the farther he was pulled. In a panic as he was slowly strangled, his feet kicked outward looking for something to latch onto to either slow the movements or help right himself and take the weight off his throat. He wasn't sure what caused it, but before his vision started blurring, Chris had stopped. The pressure over his air passage receded enough for him to breathe in as much oxygen as he could through his nostrils rather than his mouth, where the gag still lay firmly tightened in place. He reached a hand up to remove it, only to feel a jerk from the belt; a warning.

"Leave it," The command had him lowering the limb, struggling to steady his breathing. There was a hard kick to his side that sent him rolling over on his stomach with a muffled yell, arm clutching the abused area. Chris tugged again, a silent order telling Piers that he should start moving. The ace made an effort to stand, only to be immediately shoved back down to all fours.

"Crawl."

What? He really expected him to-

Another jerk nearly had Piers face planting the floor at the roughness put behind it. Chris was intent on humiliating him in more ways than one; not that he hadn't already done so.

_You've got to be kidding me!_

Begrudgingly, Piers placed one palm after the other, followed by movements from his knees that led him forward like some sort of dog on a leash. He'd play hell trying to forget that later.

Chris gave the occasional pull along the way that would generally indicate that he wanted Piers to move faster just to witness him squirm. Piers had no idea that the night would drag on for so long, or that his Captain would have focused so much attention towards him; all of the _unwanted_ sort, a word he'd never thought he'd use in reference to Chris.

What little relief that came with finally reaching the office didn't last long. The moment the hard floor turned into carpet beneath him at the open frame where they'd come inside, Chris slammed the door behind them and practically resorted back to dragging him the rest of the way over to the center of the room. Piers was forced face down on the floor by a boot to his back, rough hands gripped over the lengths of his arms to twist them behind him and re-secure the limbs with the one of the tubes the Captain brought along with them. Chris moved down to the sniper's feet, tying them at the ankles with the second tube. Piers groaned from behind the gag; he couldn't walk, he couldn't even crawl anymore now. He was quite literally immobilized - _again_.

Thick arms wrapped around his body to flip him over and onto his back, his own weight crushing down on his restrained arms. Chris lifted the bound pair of legs to place them on a shoulder, out of the way as he lowered his zipper. He wasn't done with the ace yet. His thick, already hardened cock was pulled free and Chris didn't wait before stabbing his meaty length into the bleeding pucker he was so fond of abusing, making it a point to attack the torn hole with more ferocity the louder the ensuing screams grew.

Piers tossed his head back against the floor of the room with his arms tugging at their binds in search of a way out, only to have the restraints dig painfully into the flesh of his wrists, marking him as he was pushed and pulled across the floor, skin burning from the friction against the carpet of the office. Chris wasn't aiming to please him; he wasn't thrusting purposely toward that spot inside that had Piers actually enjoying it as he did in the hours before. It was needy movements and hungering jabs that sought out the heat from tightened walls, all in a desire for self satisfaction.

The position did nothing to help the case for Piers, with legs bound to each other and forced upright, his muscles were further tightened against the invading length that slammed in and out of the entry way in a bruising pace.

But then there it was again.

A twist of his hips from the impact of balls against his ass had the tip buried inside him unintentionally brushing over that sweet bundle of nerves that ate away at the pain. The hand that kept his legs lifted over his Captain's shoulder had squeezed, fingers digging against the skin that already had it turning a purple-ish hue from under the pressure. It hurt, everything hurt; yet that pain somehow seemed to intensify the pleasure that for a _second_ time that night, had managed to build itself despite his current predicament.

Chris was grunting, a series of loud pants resounded from his open mouth with every plunge inward toward the heated depths of the hole he used solely as a means for release. The noises came more frequently with each thrust, his body heat rose from the growing pleasure as he was intent only on driving himself over the edge.

Piers arched off the floor, back straining at the movement as his fingers clenched inward to rest against his palms in closed fists. The bindings stung against his skin, sure to have cut off the circulation by now but he didn't care; he couldn't bring himself to focus so much on the pain as he was the pleasure of being so roughly impaled. His mind was a mess again, jumbled between wanting more and wanting out. Piers was being used, regarded as little more than a human sex toy to be tossed around and throttled in whatever way was preferred. Yet the reoccurring feeling that washed over him with every brush against his prostate had a hidden lust awakening inside, begging to be sated. He hated being caught in between, hated the mixed desires and inability to settle on one or the other.

But it was still Chris.

That perfectly toned body glossed over in thick, raw muscle that forced him into submission. Did he want it? He couldn't give a straight answer. Yes, he wanted Chris, but not like that. Not like _that_…

Yet, he couldn't help the way his own body betrayed him, craving to push back against the pounding length that threatened to split him in half with wanton cries muffling themselves behind the fabric over his mouth.

Then Chris was pulling away, abandoning the rhythm of his hips into twitching ass muscles to take up a position near the ace's side. Piers caught himself before he could openly whine at the loss as the air tickled at the span of his stretched pucker just before his bound legs were dropped from the solid shoulder where they fell to the floor.

Chris leaned over him, hand reaching for his own cock to stroke along the length in a fast pace, groaning once white juices started to shoot from the slit in ropes that were aimed at the bound body under him, lathering the lean frame with splatters of cum that had Piers turning his head away as he was covered in it. The sniper shifted, his skin tingled under the coating of heated fluids.

The S.O.U. Captain moved again, this time to reach toward the make-shift cock ring that had remained in place the entire time, fingers immediately set toward undoing the knot that released the sensitive organ from its hold, only for a hand to place a tightened grip over it and pump along the flesh once, twice, before pausing at the tip of the leaking prick. Piers felt his nostrils flare with every heavy inhale as he lifted his head to watch the hand over him that sat teasingly idle.

"You have to work for it, soldier."

Piers felt a shudder at the words. Chris really was out to humiliate him. The sniper forced himself to swallow with difficulty, all in thanks to the rag that sat over his tongue. He hesitated, contemplating momentarily on whether to fight with his dwindling sense of control or go against his better judgment and fully give in; the latter of which he found himself wanting to do much more than he'd like. His body was already against him, muscles tightening with the desire to reach a release.

A sudden squeeze over his cock made the choice for him, shattering any resolve he may have had prior to it as his body bucked upward with a thrust into those enclosed fingers. The grip never made a motion to assist, and only on occasion offered another squeeze the faster he lifted his hips in a desperate pace for relief that he'd been secretly longing for since he was first left bent over that bar and tied in place hours before. It didn't take long before he already hit his breaking point, body jerking as squirts of cum left his tip to land across his own stomach where the fluids mingled with those from his Captain. The hand over him chose to move then, helping to milk him for every last drop until he was a sweaty, pleasantly fucked mess. His skin gained a tint of red from both the exhaustion and the humiliation that he willingly exposed himself to.

Chris however, didn't offer him much time to come down from his high and was already on his feet, grabbing at the belt to once again drag Piers across the floor until his back was firmly situated against the front of the Captain's desk, facing the door. Chris lifted the end of the belt he held in his hand to trail it over the top of the surface and behind it, where he tied the end to the handle of a drawer. The belt held firm, tight, and narrowed the amount of air flow entering the ace's lungs, but didn't cut it off completely. It did however, prevent Piers from squirming too much at the risk of suffocation.

The Captain walked back around to the front, putting his softened cock back into the confines of his pants before he crouched down next to Piers with a hand that dipped over his sticky coated abdominals. "You look perfect like this, tied up like some animal on a leash." Gruff, harsh, the sound of the voice had Piers looking away. There was a soft snort from the Captain, "And there's no room for any back talk with that scarf blocking the way." Piers closed his eyes, listening to the rustling of clothes as Chris stood back up. He didn't want to face him anymore, not now.

"Goodnight, Piers."

Wait. What did he plan on doing?

Hazel eyes reopened at the words, head turning despite the train of thought he held moments ago. Chris couldn't possibly mean what he thought he did. The night as a whole was unexpected, but even in his drunken state the Captain couldn't just leave him there-

But then there was a smack as his head was redirected back the way it came by a pressure to the side of his face that sent the world darkening into black. He was able to hear the feint sound of retreating footsteps, then an opening of a door that followed in their wake before everything faded away into a state of unconsciousness...

_Knock, knock, knock_

"Captain Redfield?"

That voice, it was so familiar...

How long had it been? Piers heard the door as it creaked open a second time.

"Captain, are you- Oh!"

Young, naive, _cheery_.

His skin paled.

"Lieutenant Nivans! Sir! A-are you... Are you okay?"

There was a hand over his shoulder, shaking him. Eyelids fluttered briefly before fully opening, vision still slightly blurred. There was a tug on the scarf as it was pulled loose, allowing him to spit out the soaked fabric that had been stuffed into the confines of his mouth. Piers blinked, gaze settling in on the figure at his side as he flexed his jaw, trying to work the tension out of it.

Beanie. Goggles.

"...Finn?"

Things couldn't have gotten any worse from there.


	3. Chapter 3

First, everything had gone downhill because of trying to deal with his overly drunk Captain, then Piers had to endure the aches and pains that came from being bent over top a damn pole at the waist with arms and legs tied together to prevent him from snaking his way out. Of all the things, after the already humiliating process of what he'd went through for half of the night, he woke up to_ that_. To Finn. Out of everyone in the entire base, it just had to be the rookie. To make things even worse, Finn was just sitting there watching with those large, doe-like eyes and apparently for one reason or another, didn't know what to do. He blinked, "Why are you tied up in the Captain's-" There it was, the start to an onslaught of questions.

Piers would have none of it, "Just get me out of this, rookie."

"But sir! You-"

"_Finn_." After the night before and having woken up to something like that, the ace certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with any of it. He also needed to get up and get out before Chris came back... The older man had a tendency to forget most of the things he'd done if he drank enough, and the last thing Piers wanted to do was stir up any memories or worse - have to explain the entire night himself if the Captain caught him tied up in his office with dried semen all across his chest and stomach.

Finn cringed at the harshness outlining the tone as he scrambled forward with wide eyes to unhook the belt from the handle it was tied to. His head was in a whirl, face flushed a deep red at seeing the unit's ATL in such an embarrassing predicament. There were so many questions; where was the Captain? Did he know about this? Was he responsible? That last thought made his skin heat up even more imagining the man he idolized doing something so... Sexual, yet _cruel_, especially to one of his own men.

Piers leaned forward now that he was able to give the blushing rookie better access to his bound wrists. "Hurry up," He chided, not wanting to take any more time than necessary.

"Y-yes sir! Sorry, sir!" Finn fumbled with the cords, a bit more frantic while trying to keep his eyes away from anything but the bindings out of fear for personal harm if he was caught. Piers had a way of seeming exceptionally intimidating, even in his current state.

The moment his hands were free, Piers moved them to tug at the belt still dangling from around his neck where it had been left after the opposite end was untied from the drawer handle. He swallowed as soon as it was loosened and allowed his fingers to trail over the red skin, now raw and sensitive to the slightest touch. He winced, barely noticeable to the rookie who had repositioned himself at the sniper's feet to undo the bindings around his ankles.

"Maybe I should notify-" The comment was cut short by a grip around the front of Finn's shirt, pulling him closer so the two were face to face. Sharp hazel narrowed threateningly, sending a shiver down Finn's spine. "You don't say a word about this. Not to the Captain, not to Alpha. Not to _anyone_. Got me, rookie?" Doe-like eyes grew a size larger at the words, intimidation coiled itself over the sound of the voice, forcing several quickened nods from the demolitionist. Piers watched him for a few seconds longer until he was the least bit satisfied by the answer. He released his hold, allowing Finn to pull his body upright.

Piers made a move to push himself up, groaning softly at the way his body ached with each movement.

"Sir, are you-"

"Shut up, Finn." Piers grabbed a hold on the side of the desk to steady himself once he was on his feet. He'd play hell trying to hide it from the rest of the unit, never mind trying to conceal it from Chris. He'd have to make up a damn good excuse for all the damage unless he dared to call in... But it was too late for that. If Finn was already there, most of the men were too. He'd have to figure something out. Piers pushed himself away from the desk top to stumble toward the door, pausing next to it for a moment before he glanced over a shoulder and back at the rookie.

Finn didn't like the look he was getting, and shuffled a few steps back without realizing it.

"My clothes. They were left in the training room." There was no way Piers could risk stepping out of the office where he could be spotted, even with his skills in stealth. He was good at remaining unseen... But, he was also recovering from the events of the night prior. He was in no condition to play hide and seek with the entire base. "I need you to get them and bring them back. Fast." It wasn't a question. He offered no choice on the matter.

Finn was practically sprinting out the door after that.

Piers sighed, hands raising to scale over his facial features where they lifted to roam through his hair, already out of place with several unkempt locks dangling over his forehead from the rough treatment he'd endured. He leaned his back against the wall off the the side of the door while he waited, feeling more and more nasty the longer Finn took. There he was, standing in his Captain's office; completely nude, body abused in all sorts of ways, with dried cum coated over his front and at the insides of his thighs. The entire situation was dirty, and the fact that Finn new about it made things so much worse. The kid wouldn't dare to write a report, not when he knew Piers would easily shove a round into his ass that would make the hole twice its size, all without a lick of hesitation. It was a small relief, better than being found by his sober Captain. But the fact that Finn knew was still a risk in itself. Piers would have to keep a close eye on the boy so that nothing slipped loose.

There was a soft knock and the door slid open just enough for Finn to shuffle inside, cheeks still red with his eyes downcast. Piers had hoped the rookie managed to maintain some semblance of being discreet about it, considering how odd it must have looked to anyone passing by who happened to see Finn with a pile of clothes gathered up in his arms while heading toward the Captain's office. At least he'd been relatively quick.

Piers grabbed the stack of fabrics without so much as a thanks and rushed to slip them over his body. He'd have to rechange and shower the moment he was able. He probably still smelt like sex, judging by the way Finn would occasionally wrinkle his nose.

"Finn," Piers called for the boy's attention as he pulled on his jacket. The younger man perked up at the sound, innocent eyes still having a hard time dealing with everything he'd just witnessed. Piers bent over to retrieve the scarf Finn had dropped to the floor upon releasing him. He wove it over his neck, still wet with his own saliva, to cover up the marks the belt had left behind over his throat before he pointed an accusing finger toward Finn. "Remember. Not a word."

"Y-yes sir!"

Piers lowered his hand to brush by and pull open the door, giving a quick glance in each direction before he stepped into the hallway. He couldn't even see the full extent of damage on his own without a mirror, he probably looked like he'd been through hell. He'd always been clean and tidy, hair perfected in its upward spikes at the front with all clothing firmly fitted and in place. Now... Now, he was disheveled. He had rushed to put everything on, his hair was out of place, and his skin was on fire with red marks and bruises. Not to mention he was still aching from the forced sex during the night before, which made walking rather uncomfortable. He'd never felt more miserable in his life.

That was to say, until he'd rounded a corner.

Directly into Chris.

Piers swallowed, struggling to maintain some sort of composure at the sight of the other man who seemed more surprised than anything at his current condition. Good, that meant he didn't remember... At least not yet. Piers would try his hardest to keep it that way.

"Captain." The sniper greeted, his tone somehow kept perfectly balanced.

"Piers! What the hell happened to you?"

Had it really been so obvious that something was wrong? By the look he was receiving with widened eyes, it must have been. Piers made a move to rub at the back of his neck, wincing slightly at the friction against raw skin. Damn it, he'd already forgotten about that.

"It's nothing, Captain. It was just a long night." It was a piss poor excuse and he knew it.

Chris eyed him with suspicion and a curve to his brow, "It doesn't look like _nothing_, Piers." He reached a hand out and Piers faltered, flinching back from the touch before he even realized it. Chris retracted his arm with a frown, "What's going on?" His tone was deeper now, more commanding in his search for answers.

"It's just... Sensitive. Don't worry about it, Captain. It won't be a problem." Sensitive. Who was he kidding? His skin felt like he'd fallen into a pit of lava in more ways than one, and he had to resist every ongoing urge to slink away from the older man.

"I can see why, that's a hell of a bruise. How'd you get it?"

Bruise?

Right. Chris had knocked him out, the blow must have left its own mark. Piers hadn't even considered that. No wonder why the side of his face was throbbing.

"There was an... Incident the other night. I took care of it." He really wasn't easing the suspicion very well.

"You're avoiding giving me a direct answer." The Captain took a single step closer and Piers felt a twitching in his leg muscles, wanting to retreat back to put more distance between them. "What's wrong?"

Hazel eyes met brown and held them. Piers forced himself to calm down, "I stayed late yesterday. When I left to head home, I decided to walk the way there and took a shortcut through an alley. It's not the safest place to be at night and... I ran into some trouble. Nothing I couldn't handle, Captain." A bad excuse was better than none at all, and Chris seemed to actually consider the lie. Maybe Piers had put up a better front than he'd thought. He hated having to be so dishonest with the other man.

"Take the day, get yourself checked out. You look like hell."

Piers would have breathed a sigh of relief if it didn't carry the possibility of making things appear even more abnormal than they already were. He settled for a nod, finally letting his gaze fall away. There was a hand at his shoulder that caused a small shudder, just barely unnoticeable to the owner as Chris gave a reassuring squeeze. "You need anything, you let me know."

"Yes, Captain."

Chris hesitated, still not satisfied with the talk before he removed his hand from its placement.

The sniper offered a forced smile, but from the expression he'd received for it he was almost positive that Chris had noticed all the little cracks in his demeanor. Piers didn't give the Captain much of a chance to react to it before he was already moving away. The ace felt eyes on his back up until he took a turn around another corner, where he practically sprinted toward the entrance. If his commanding officer gave him the okay, he wasn't about to turn it down or stick around in the case that Chris would change his mind. It also saved Piers from the risk of exposure to unwanted glances in the case that he would have had to settle for cleaning up in the locker room. As it was with the farther he went, Piers had gotten a lot of stares from other soldiers along the way to the exit, but he didn't stop until he was out to his car where he practically threw himself inside, cringing at the sudden pain tingling from his abused ass muscles. He'd have to remember to be more careful.

The drive itself had been a fast one and Piers wasted no time in getting home. He was already fumbling for the right key as he was stepping out of the vehicle. He had the whole day to try and clean himself up, to wash away the evidence of the night before and then catch up on some needed rest in a more comfortable setting. He wanted to forget the look he'd seen in his Captain's eyes, and he wanted his body to heal away the aches and pains he felt over his skin. Most of all, he wanted to wipe away the memory of actually enjoying it.

The first thing Piers did was head for the bathroom where he stripped away his clothing and stood before the mirror. He could hardly believe it was a reflected image of himself staring back. No wonder why Chris had seemed so concerned; his entire right cheek was a darkened hue just under the eye, it was hard to miss. His eyes were bloodshot, reddened presumably from the sobs that had worked their way out during the torment. It was difficult for even him to look at. Piers had to force his eyes to turn away, where he stepped over and twisted the handles to the shower. The water came out at first in spurts that gradually increased into a full current, and Piers slipped under the stream with a gasp the moment the rivulets dipped over his skin. The contact in itself was enough to sting for a time, and he'd forced himself to relax under the rain of liquid with clenched teeth until the pain slowly lessened into something more soothing.

Piers closed his eyes, a poor attempt at willing away the conflict inside. He cared about Chris, not the monster who'd damaged him. Yet, he couldn't help the goosebumps that dotted over his skin at the memory, awakening some twisted sort of excitement that had him feeling a sudden stir between his legs. Although it wasn't the Chris he knew, what he had done to him; the brutality, the sex. Somehow, even through all the pain, even after the humiliation... Unwillingly, Piers felt his body as it ached for more.

He couldn't admit that aloud. Could never tell Chris what he'd done or how the sniper felt about it. Piers had wanted it to stop, wanted it to end; but his body said otherwise. It was a mental torment that tore him in two directions, struggling to cope with the feelings that both of them brought.

All Piers could think about was being held down by his Captain; trapped and alone, at his mercy. He didn't want that image to settle in his head, he wanted to lock it inside a cage and throw away the key so he could move on. But he couldn't, and his body made sure of that as he felt a throbbing in his lower regions, a sensation that he couldn't ignore as his cock hardened at the thought. He swallowed, exhaling through his nostrils as his already closed eyes tightened themselves shut further while he tried to relax under the stream.

What did he really want?

Piers could keep it a fantasy, a dirty little secret that Chris would never know about. But would he be able to live with it? He wasn't sure he had the answer, even as he found himself reaching down to grasp a hold over his own erect penis and squeeze. His bottom lip curled itself inward to roll between his teeth as the memory played out. Chris hovering over him, forcing him to thrust his way into a release-

His fingers moved, dancing briefly over the heated skin before pausing to clamp down into a tightened fist. He held it there, stuck in place while his hips worked on their own as they had before, thrusting his cock into the enclosed space of his hand, remembering it as his Captain's.

_"You have to work for it, soldier."_

The voice dangled at the edge of his hearing, so vivid in memory it felt as though the man was there as Piers pumped himself into a rhythm, unsteady and careless; quick and sloppy, with the only goal being to find a release. His other hand reached up to slip over his parted lips, muffling the noises like the scarf that had been tied around his head.

The water from the shower head beat down over his skin, coating his body with more heat to intensify the sudden drive of lust as his hips pushed forward, aching cock slipping in and out of the opening in his fist.

Piers remembered what it felt like, being thrown to the floor and fucked without any concern for his well-being. Forced to impale himself on a thick cock before the bindings were woven around his wrists. The feeling of being stretched wider than what he could accommodate, then the overwhelming pleasure of the thick girth inside plunging itself inward where it brushed over the bundle of nerves that had him crying out, only intensified by the pain.

He tilted his head back with his movements, nostrils flaring to suck in needed air as his breathing went haywire. Piers could feel the vibrations against his hand with every sound he made against the open palm, soft mewls that expanded into audible moans, silenced into little more than a muffled whine by the barrier blocking the way. His hips jerked forward, surging with a need he couldn't fully sate even as he pushed his body closer to the edge. His fingers had tightened further, almost painfully, around his pulsing length as he worked himself to orgasm. One squirt of white after the next sputtered from the slit in his tip, oozing down with the pouring water to slip into the drain where the evidence washed itself away.

Piers groaned, the hand at his mouth removed itself so he could breathe easier with his head dipped forward as he reopened his eyes.

It all began to seep into reality then.

Piers wanted Chris, wanted everything he could give; his body ached for the abuse, for the dominating power the older man had over him. Willingly or not, he was in love with it. What made everything worse, was knowing that he could never tell Chris... Because Chris, would _never_ enjoy hurting him while in his right state of mind.

A balled up fist made a hard collision with the bathroom wall where it cracked the tile and made the sniper's knuckles bleed. "Fuck!" Why did everything have to be so damn complicated?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Apologies for the wait, guys! Here's an extra long chapter to try and make up for it. Thank you so much for all the reviews/follows/favorites, everyone - they're always appreciated!**

* * *

Another day and the bruises were still the same darkened shade of purple, with rows of red marks hidden away under fabrics of clothing. Piers sighed, finding himself standing back in front of the mirror for the fourth time that morning. He was about ready to head back to base; raw or not, Piers Nivans was never one to stray away from his job for more time than what was necessary. Although, in this specific case, even he would admit that he was pushing it; but damn it, he was a soldier. He could handle it.

It was just facing Chris again that would be the problem.

Piers had barely gotten himself off the hook the day before, and he was certain that the Captain would have more than a handful of new questions that he would have to try and evade... Or lie his way through. Piers didn't want to fall into the habit of doing that, but he couldn't let Chris know what happened. If he did, there was no telling how the older man would react - especially if he found out just how Piers felt about the whole situation.

The sniper forced himself to turn away from his reflected image, holding back another heavy exhale. He'd do whatever he had to. After grabbing his jacket, he was already on his way out.

When he'd arrived back at the base, he caught the same curious stares eyeing him as he passed by. Piers ignored them and continued on to prepare himself, stopping to grab all his gear from the locker where he equipped it. Everything was fitted into place in record time, although Finn just happened to enter on his way out, and the rookie instantly greeted him with wide eyes. Piers narrowed his own in warning, and the demolitionist nodded frantically before his gaze dropped to the floor. The ace exited the room in silence, leaving the young soldier alone in the room.

"Piers!"

The voice had the sniper stiffen on the spot, and he turned around to see Chris approaching. Stern features kept their disguise as hazel met brown, "Captain."

Chris slowed to a stop just in front of him, eyeing him thoroughly. Piers nearly fidgeted, but fought himself to keep his composure. "Are you sure you should be-"

"I'm fine."

Chris raised an eyebrow at the answer, and Piers could have shot himself in the teeth at how defensively it had come out. He swallowed, "Really."

The older man sighed, "You're not in the best shape. If you need the break, Piers, take it. Don't push yourself."

If only it were really that simple. "I wouldn't be here if I couldn't handle it, Captain." Piers nearly cringed after the words came out of his mouth. He'd said said the exact same thing the night before, and it was the cause of his current state of being.

Chris eyed him suspiciously as though he'd just fed him a mouthful of bullshit. Which in all honesty, actually was the case. "All right." The tone was disbelieving. "But if I see any sign of that not being true, I'm making it an order to stay away from this base until you're recovered. Understood?"

Piers felt his jaw briefly tense, "Yes, sir." If the Captain planned to keep a close eye on him... No, he could do this. He'd taken plenty of damage out on the field in his life, he could deal with the result of rough sex. It was just a matter of keeping himself fully collected in front of Chris, which he already almost stumbled over. He was fortunate that the older man didn't demand an explanation from him... But given the circumstances, it could still happen in due time, and Piers dreaded the thought.

Chris watched him in wonder for a few lengthy moments before he gave a single nod and brushed by, leaving Piers to exhale heavily after the Captain disappeared around the corner.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Left and right, no matter where Piers had gone throughout the morning, Chris wouldn't be far behind. He kept a close eye on the sniper, and Piers never before had to try as hard as he did that day to keep himself fully collected. There were slight falters at times, when Chris would get too close or ask something that reminded Piers of the other day. To make things worse, time seemed to draw itself out as though it was taunting him.

Avoiding Chris would not be as easy as the ace had first hoped. The Captain made sure to stay on the lookout for anything that seemed out of place in the sniper, he wasn't stupid, he knew just as well as Piers did that he was lying about what had happened. Although Piers was good at disappearing - at hiding and not being seen - through the drills and all their training, he had no choice but to be near the older man. Continuously leaving any time he felt brown eyes scanning him from afar would be plainly obvious that something was wrong. Chris would call him out on that one for sure.

So, Piers endured. All the curious glances, all the strange occasional questions seemingly made solely to get under his skin and provoke a reaction. It became easier for his features to keep their normally stern overlook the longer that time went by, but it did nothing to put a distance between he and Chris. No, the older man would watch him until Piers failed at holding up the mask, or when the Captain had his answers directly fed to him, one way or another.

Now, the lot of them were in the break room. Andy and Carl bickered off in a corner, while Ben had disappeared moments prior. Finn seemed even more visibly bothered by something than Piers was, and one thing Chris did catch onto with ease were the looks that had been struck between them. Finn's constant wide-eyed gaze, and Piers' narrowed hazel with a lurking threat hidden somewhere within.

That was what confused Chris.

Why would Finn have been involved in whatever had Piers so beaten up and abused? The rookie didn't have any cuts or bruises like the sniper, so clearly he hadn't taken part in whatever fight had occurred. Finn, although known for his soft and innocent nature, had never seemed so terrified.

So, Chris waited.

He waited until the conversations died down, waited until Andy left with a release of haughty laughter and a glaring Carl in tow. He also intended to wait further, until the sniper had excused himself with the rest.

Yet, Piers seemed hesitant to go. He didn't want to leave Chris alone with Finn, perhaps?

Chris was the Captain. He didn't need Piers to be the one to leave first, he had other options and made that plainly obvious to the sniper. "Finn, there's something I want to discuss with you. Meet me in my office when you're done," He stood up in preparation to take his leave and offered a glance toward Piers, who had perked up at the words almost uncharacteristically so.

Another shared gaze between sniper and demolitionist, then Finn had scrambled to his feet where he nearly fell flat on his face when his foot caught itself under the chair in his rush. Head lowered, instead of pushing things off, he followed behind the Captain. Hazel eyes never drifted away from the duo until they were out of sight, and the sniper had been left on his own with worry and paranoia thickly laced inside his stare, now gazing at nothing in particular as it settled against the door the two had left through.

Chris didn't say anything during the walk to his office, noting how the much younger man seemed to drag his feet as they went, uncomfortable. No doubt Finn already knew what the conversation would be about.

The second they got to the office, Chris ushered the demolitionist inside and closed the door behind them. "Finn... Have you noticed anything odd about Piers lately?"

There it was, Finn had feared the worst and rightfully so. "N-no sir! I only saw him briefly today." The rookie was already wide-eyed, sweat glistened from every pore under the gaze of his beloved Captain.

Finn twitched.

Then fidgeted.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "And yesterday?"

"Just for a minute! I-I mean, we talked before he was sent home. But it wasn't for long, sir!"

Piers was going to kill him. Kill him dead, dead, dead.

Chris sighed and approached the young demolitionist with a hand placed over his shoulder. "Finn, if there's something important that you know, don't be afraid to tell me. If Piers-"

"No!" The rookie unintentionally interrupted with a shudder under the weight of the palm over his shoulder. "He... He just wasn't feeling well, is all. You could always talk to him about it." Finn avoided a more direct answer. He hated having to do so, especially with his Captain; his _idol_, who had always been so kind and caring towards him despite the fact that they were soldiers. But Piers... The sniper was the last person that Finn would ever want to anger.

Chris eyed him for a few silent moments before he gave a reassuring squeeze and released his hold. "Tried that." He pinched the bridge of his nose with another heavy exhale.

Finn shifted in place, suddenly uncomfortable. "Um..."

"You can go, Finn. Thanks anyway," Damn it. So close. Chris let his hand fall away and turned to seat himself back at his desk.

"Sorry, sir." The rookie mumbled, head lowered as he spun around and reached for the door.

Chris placed his head in his hands, elbows firmly atop the surface of his desk. "He looked so different," The voice had Finn pausing in his movements. The young demolitionist turned back around to look toward his Captain as the man continued, "Not because of the bruises, there was something in his eyes. Piers is always so collected, but I could tell something was wrong. Then he practically stumbled over his own words... It was out of character," Chris withdrew his head from his hands with a frown, gaze lowered to his desk.

Naturally upon hearing the words and concern in his Captain's voice, Finn opened his mouth. Instead of petty reassurances or suggestions, something else entirely had spilled out. "It could have had something to do with him being tied up and naked in your off-" The demolitionist cut himself off too late. Doe-like eyes widened to their full extent as the Captain's head snapped up at the words. "I-I mean... I didn't..." His skin turned three shades of red from the embarrassment as his heart picked up its pace and nearly pounded out of his chest cavity.

He was dead. So, so dead.

"...What did you just say?"

Finn wanted to crawl away in the darkest place he could find and never come out. "H-he... Um." The demonitionist struggled to find the words.

Chris pushed himself up out of his chair and closed in on the rookie, making Finn stiffen in place like a deer caught in the headlights. "Finn... What happened?"

"You can't tell him! He made me promise not to let anyone know!" Well, it was more like Piers had threatened him, but one was just as equal to the other in meaning.

Chris placed both hands over the younger man's shoulders, "I need to know what went on." It was Finn that he was dealing with, and his voice wasn't as rough as it could have been, though it still held a softened sense of firmness to it.

Finn shuffled and his eyes lowered themselves to the floor. "I came in looking for you yesterday, and he was... Um." He made a weak motion toward the desk, "Over there." His eyes were anywhere but on his Captain. "Bruised and tied up." He left out the part about the sniper being covered in drying cum. The memory in itself made his skin heat up and redden further.

Chris nearly scoffed. Bruised and tied up in his own damn office. What the hell did Piers get himself into? How did he even...? Why would he do that? "Did he say anything? Do you know how he ended up like that?"

Finn shook his head, this time without spurted excuses. He was telling the truth. "He told me not to tell anyone. I untied him and he had me get his clothes, then he left. T-that was all! I swear!"

But Chris seemed faraway. He couldn't figure it out, why Piers would go behind his back like that. Was he fooling around with someone and just happened to choose his office as the perfect place for it? It didn't feel right, it didn't seem like something Piers would do.

So, what the hell happened?

Chris snapped himself out of his train of thought to eye the younger man. "You're sure? That's everything?"

Aside from being covered in ropes of jism, yeah it was. Finn nodded, "Yes, sir!"

Chris gave a gentle squeeze to both shoulders and withdrew. "Thank you," He'd said, "But I _will_ have to talk to Piers about this, Finn." He watched the poor kid as those wide eyes drooped to the floor, head lowered. If Piers found out... Finn had already resigned himself to his fate. "Hey," The sound had the demolitionist looking back toward his superior. Chris offered a small, reassuring smile, although it was forced. "You'll be fine. I won't mention you, and if he figures it out on his own... I'll take care of it. You don't have to worry."

Finn seemed relieved at the news, too young features brightened up and the sparkle returned to innocent eyes. "Thanks, Captain!"

Chris nodded and motioned toward the door, "Go ahead. I'll need to talk to him, and it's better that I get this out of the way now." Finn scrambled out the door after that, clearly more cheery now that things had been partially resolved. Chris sighed and exited the room as well to go in search of the sniper. It was more than likely that Piers had disappeared from the break room by now, and Chris knew exactly where to look.

After a short time of roaming through hallways, as expected, the ace was down in the shooting range. Perfect positioning, excellent posture, Piers had never felt more at home than when a gun was firmly placed in hand. Chris closed in with a determination in his stride, slowing to a halt not far behind the ace as he fired. "Piers," The name had the sniper glancing over a shoulder, "My office, now." The tone held a firmness that couldn't be denied, and Piers seemed uneasy as he stared after his superior and immediately followed in step with him back through the hallways.

Piers wasn't an idiot, he knew that Chris had been talking to Finn, he was there when they left for the office. The damn rat, he'd squeaked out his little secret the moment his beloved, cherished Captain had asked a single question. Just how much did Finn say, though? Piers still had his rifle in hand, and his fingers tightened against it as they entered the room. He had to throw it over his shoulder to avoid hunting the rookie down now rather than later. Chris closed the door behind them and moved to take a seat in his chair, motioning for Piers to do the same. The sniper declined with a shake of the head, the look in his superior's eyes told him everything he needed to know.

Piers tensed his jaw, and deft fingers curled themselves inwards to form balled fists. His knuckles strained against the fabric of his gloves, "I've got a bullet just waiting to hit Finn between the teeth-"

Chris raised a hand to stop him, "Don't blame Finn, he did the right thing. Now it's your turn. The truth, Piers, I want to hear it from you."

"No."

Chris raised an eyebrow at that, "_No_? Piers, I can make it an order-"

"No." The ace was still stubborn, hazel eyes gained a slight narrow. "Do I make a habit of asking about your personal life?"

"When it involves your health and messing around my desk, I think I have plenty of reason to be asking you about this." Chris countered, eyeing the sniper who persistently avoided giving him answers. There were no more falters, no more pretending. Piers had gone into full on defensive mode, and there was no way Chris could crack that shell with ease. "Piers, you don't have much of a choice. I need to know what happened, and whether or not I need to do something about it."

"Let it go," Piers insisted, "It's already done and over with."

"Piers..." The Captain drawled, his tone a warning. Piers stood as defiant as ever, refusing to give an answer and he left Chris with little choice. "All right," The older man said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Enjoy the rest of the day on base. Until I get an explanation, you won't be coming back. We're done here." That seemed to get the sniper's attention.

Piers straightened his posture, hazel widening from their former narrow, "You wouldn't-"

"I said we're done, Piers." Chris motioned toward the door to his office.

"You can't do that! I'm perfectly capable to-"

Chris stood up from his chair with a suddenness and slammed his palms against the surface of his desk, jarring it. "I'm the damn Captain, soldier. What I say, goes. Until you remember that and decide to give me answers, I don't want to see you back around here." It was brown that narrowed this time, watching the ace with unbidden anger. This wasn't how he wanted things to play out, but damn it if the sniper wasn't so close-mouthed. He did what he had to. Piers couldn't stay away from his duty for long.

The ace eyed the older man accusingly for a few extra moments, "_Fine_," He seethed, visibly angered by the news. Piers was doing it to protect the older man, why did Chris have to insist on pushing for more? He was better off not knowing, and Piers sure as hell couldn't tell him the truth.

The sniper spun on a heel and stormed out the door, leaving the Captain to his own devices.

Chris sighed and seated himself back in the chair. As much as he hated to do it, he was concerned about the sniper. If it would get him the truth, he could wait it out. Piers was stubborn, but he couldn't stay away forever.

In the meantime, working hours or no, Chris needed a relief.

* * *

The day that hadn't been able to go by fast enough suddenly seemed to increase its movements - double time. Hours flew by after the argument, both Chris and Piers had stopped eyeing one another so constantly. Piers got what he wanted, Chris wasn't continuously breathing down his neck; but that was because he already _knew_ that something was wrong, that something was off. Piers had been anything but kind to the rest of Alpha, drilling each and every one of them harder than usual to appease his own boiling anger.

Finn, however, had gotten the worst of it. Although Piers wanted to rip his damn head off and use it for target practice on a fucking pike, the ace would at least take some tiny semblance of satisfaction from ordering the rookie around, forcing him to endure more than he had to.

Yet, by the end of the day, he was still just as upset.

Piers had made sure to stay after hours again. He wrapped a few extra things up, spent some time down at the range and even out on the track, all in search of a way to vent his pent up frustration. Pestering Finn constantly should have done the trick, but when that failed to be good enough, everything else seemed as equally unsatisfactory.

Finally, Piers had ended up in the locker room. One quick shower, and he'd be on his way home. Chris would need him eventually, they'd have to call him back. Even as Captain, the older man couldn't keep him away forever, surely. Piers was down to the standard BDU, vest and riggings all already thrown aside in moments prior.

"Piers."

The sniper didn't need to turn around to know the owner of the voice; it was one he knew all too well. "_Captain_," He returned in a forced greeting as he discarded his shirt without turning around. Piers didn't say more than that as he bent over to remove his boots and socks where they were put aside. Resounding footsteps made their way closer, and Piers caught a familiar scent of scotch. His hands froze in their movements at his belt as the older man came to a stop behind him. Anger turned itself to worry, worry turned to excitement, excitement was the anticipation for what his body knew was coming. It was late again, just like it had been the other day when everything went to hell and got complicated. They were alone, and no one was there to help any more than they had been the last time. A shiver of unwanted pleasure at the thought made a course down the curve of his spine, and he felt hot breath against his ear. "W-wait-"

Chris didn't offer Piers the chance before thick arms were wrapped around him from behind, with hands that tugged loose the undone belt the rest of the way before they grabbed thinner wrists and twisted them painfully against his back. Piers yelped as he was practically thrown onto the small bench, forced to keep one leg over each side of the thin platform as he made contact. A large hand kept both wrists pinned to his lower back, and in so doing, restricted the movements of his torso under the weight as Chris used his other hand to yank down the ace's fatigues, exposing the previously abused bubbled ass.

Piers grunted, peering the best he could over his shoulder at the older man who appeared so intent on violating him again. His wrists twisted and pulled against the hand holding them, but Chris had a strong grip. Piers was still raw, it still hurt from the last time the Captain had torn him wide open. Yet, his body betrayed every thought as Chris tossed aside the last remnants of clothing, all but for the scarf he so loved to gag the sniper with. "Captain! Stop! You know what happened the las-" He cut himself off with a yell as leather collided with the sensitive flesh of an olive globe, not at all gentle in the force that had been put behind it. "Captain, _please_-" Another smack to the opposite cheek had him burying his face against the bench as it turned a matching red shade, equally as abused as the first mound.

Chris leaned over him, mouth pressed tight to his jawline where teeth merged together to bite down over exposed flesh, marking a trail that was halted only by the scarf. "Are you going to bitch some more? I wouldn't mind beating them until they bleed," He growled, the threat behind the words was indeed a very real one. Piers shuddered under the contact of heated breath over his skin and swallowed hard. Chris didn't listen in such a state as that, he _never_ listened while drunk. After the last time specifically, Piers had learned that whether he was agreeable or not, Chris would always take and do what he wanted no matter what the ace had to say about it. Either way, his current predicament was enough evidence to indicate that whatever he chose to do, Chris was still going to have his way with him just like before.

"No, Captain." Piers mumbled against the surface of the bench, resigned to his fate. He half expected the older man to beat him raw anyway, but to his surprise, Chris shifted his weight and the belt was instead used to bind Piers at the wrists where it successfully prevented him from moving too much. It didn't necessarily make things better, but the ace avoided some form of humiliation at the very least... Even if his body was going against him in every way. He heard another buckle from behind him as Chris removed his own and wrapped it over both Piers and the small bench before tightening it into place, effectively strapping the younger man to the surface so he couldn't squirm free.

There was a shuffle, and Chris moved away from him to his own locker. "I never get tired of seeing you tied up like that," He carried on as he rummaged through the contents to retrieve a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He popped one of the sticks between his lips and lit it, puffing out several clouds of smoke from the corners of his mouth. The fact that they were in the damn base didn't matter, not while he was drunk out of his mind.

Piers gave a tug against the restraints binding his wrists to test them while the older man was distracted. Like everything else had been, it was wrapped tightly in place and held firm under his wriggling. He shifted his weight, this time to try and knock loose the belt attaching him to the bench. It held just as strongly as the other, leaving him bound and helpless all over again. His body seemed intent on mocking him, as he could feel a stirring arise at the thought and it made his current position extremely uncomfortable - not that it hadn't exactly been already. His cock was trapped under his own weight, and he could barely rotate his hips for any friction.

Chris started to move again, circling back around somewhere behind him. Piers caught the sound of a zipper, and shortly after two hands had placed themselves over reddened cheeks to part them with a squeeze. The sniper could feel the cool air tickle against his sore pucker and he shuddered under the feeling as he curled his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down in preparation. Chris nudged himself forward, cock head pressed against the the abused orifice. Brown orbs briefly lifted to younger features, noting the furrow of the ace's brow as hazel eyes shut themselves closed tight. The kid was trying not to put on too much of a show. The Captain snorted, waves of smoke exited through his nostrils under the pressure. Willingly or not, he'd have the boy screaming long before they were ready to leave.

Chris thrusted forward, impaling the ace with his heated rod in a single movement that had Piers trying hard to bite back a cry as the unhealed channel was torn all over again. Chris reached a hand forward, fingers curled themselves through short locks and pulled so the sniper's head was lifted from the bench. Powerful hips retracted, only to jam back in at the same time Chris slammed Piers down against the bench with an audible thud at the collision, sending the younger man's world into a brief twirl as the side of his face hit the surface not at all gently. A second time had a headache starting to brew, then a third and particularly harder push had Piers bleeding at the temple. He was openly groaning by then, forced to endure the dual sensation in both his head and rectum as they were thoroughly abused.

Chris settled for unwinding his fingers from short locks where he relocated his hand to the undamaged side of Piers' face, forcing his weight against the skin with every thrust into the freshly bleeding pucker, so that the sniper's head constantly pounded up a storm under the pressure and left the broken skin pressed painfully tight to the surface below. Pearly whites clenched together, a series of softer groans and sharpened hisses slipped free from Piers, but Chris wanted more. His thick, meaty cock relentlessly abused the tender hole in an increasing pace that had audible slaps of flesh on flesh resound alongside his own grunts.

It was back to phase one, ruthlessly fucked by a prick too large to fit comfortably inside the tight entry way, yet every thrust into the sniper's bowels pushed and pulled Piers across the bench just enough to grind his cock between it and his own stomach. His body was burning, on fire with a mixture of forced arousal and pain. Piers was a helpless receiver as the thick girth plowed through his insides. His lip was back between his teeth, bleeding from how hard he bit down over the plump tissue with every jerk of the cock reentering the tender walls.

It hurt, it ached. It was a nightmare that came back to life for a second time. A part of him wanted it, loved the pain and the roughness, it made him hard and made him hot - but in his head, when he was able to think clear and fluidly, he knew it was wrong. Chris would never willingly do something so harsh as he did when drunk, carelessly skewering his body with a pulsing rod that thrummed upon every push. It was conflicting and confusing, Piers didn't know which thoughts to follow. He loved it and hated it all at the same time, for different reasons.

He also couldn't hold back the throaty moan as the cock head inside his depths once again managed to brush against that wonderful bundle, making his hips rock back to meet the invading girth with every plunge. The Captain's free hand dropped to smack an already red tinted cheek, earning a sharp intake of breath from Piers mingled with a groan as his length was thrusted back inside. "You sound more like a proper whore every time we do this," Chris panted as his powerful hips slammed themselves into the bubbled ass he so adored. Piers whined under the brutality of the pounding, his lungs unable to fill themselves with enough air to counter the hard fucking. Breaths were ragged and came out heavy, and the sniper no longer tried to hold back his noises when the most recent attempts had already failed.

"Ngh, Chris-" Piers jerked when another smack was delivered at the sound, and behind him Chris had paused to lean over him inches from his ear. "It's still Captain until I say so," His voice was deepened, lustful and husky from his current state of arousal. A puff of smoke blew across the sniper's skin as Chris exhaled, instantly getting sucked through his nostrils and Piers nearly choked at the scent, his breathing already hindered from the onslaught of abuse. Chris plucked the cigarette from between his lips with a curious hum, and barely a few moments later, the end of it was placed against the flesh of the delicious handful of rump that his palm had previously abused. Piers cried out at the burning over an already sore cheek, his body attempted to jerk away from the touch but both of the belts and Chris' weight held firm.

"What was that?" The older man seethed as Piers twisted under him.

Piers whined, "Captain, please!" Each movement had the cock still swallowed within his ass muscles brush over his prostate, effectively pinning him against an assault of both pain and pleasure as the cigarette burned his skin, heating it up past the point of arousal in a blend of twisted masochism.

Chris withdrew at that, brown eyes stared down at the fresh burn as he flicked aside the used bud. "Good boy," Came the hushed reply, voice still laced thickly with an intense desire as he reached down to knead the abused flesh, drawing forth a whimper from the smaller man. Chris retracted out to the tip, before sheathing his length back inside the tender heat with a sudden thrust to resume his pace. He prodded at the burn with a finger, feeling the heat emanating from the wound as he pistoned himself deep inside the dark chasm. The softened sob he received in reply only served to spur him on. His balls tightened with the approaching build up, and a few more thrusts inside joined with the lengthy cries from the body below had him emptying his seed into the cramped orifice with a loud groan.

Piers shuddered under the invading girth as his insides were flooded with thick juices, his own arousal left unsatisfied and untouched as Chris pulled himself free. For a moment, Piers had considered the possibility that his Captain might leave him there to be found again, until larger hands reached around him to tug loose the belt that pinned him to the bench. With a roughness, Chris flipped him over the side of the edge and onto the floor with a soft thud, leaving the sniper's arms still pinned in place behind his back, now trapped between his own weight and the concrete. His throbbing cock bounced achingly against his stomach, the tip freely leaked drops of precum as Chris hovered over him, slipping his belt back into the hoops on his pants.

Hazel watched him, unsure of what the older man planned as the Captain pulled the ace's locker open and tugged loose the casual wear fatigues Piers had meant to slip into after the shower he never had the chance to take before the interruption. "Captain, what-"

"Shut up," Chris warned as he lifted one toned leg after the other into the clothing, quite literally dressing the sniper for him. "We're leaving." The zipper was pulled up, the button was done and in place. The Captain hadn't bothered to allow him any undergarments as he grabbed Piers' jacket and closed the locker.

Hazel blinked, "We? But Captain-"

Dark eyes narrowed threateningly, "Do you want to walk around in public with that scarf tucked between those lips?" He queried with a hand outstretched, fingers tugging gently against the loved fabric still woven around the ace's neck.

Piers swallowed, half tempted to say yes, but that was the arousal talking. "No, sir." He felt uneasy, confused at what Chris had in store. The larger man slipped his boots on for him and laced them up just enough to keep them in place before he dragged Piers to his feet so Chris could place the jacket over his shoulders, successfully hiding the sniper's bound wrists underneath it.

Chris wrapped an arm over his shoulders and pulled him along, nearly causing Piers to trip at first with the suddenness before they fell into step together. The base was quite literally as empty as the ace had imagined, and they ran into no trouble as Chris led them out the main door to his car. Piers was hesitant, forced to stumble as Chris insistently dragged him with him and opened the side door, "Get in." The sniper didn't at first, and he waited just long enough for an impatient Chris to cram him inside on his own and strap him in place with the seat belt. The door was shut, and Chris walked around to the opposite side to climb in and start the vehicle.

"Captain," Piers started again, hazel directed toward the older man. "You've been drinking. This isn't... You shouldn't-"

"Piers." The name was spoken sharply, and brown eyes turned with an irritated stare that had a chill creep down the sniper's spine.

Despite the stupidity of the idea, Piers took his chances. "Captain, _no_! You need to sto-" A hand reached across to his groin and twisted with a rough squeeze, making his words die off into a scream as he arched against the safety belt that kept him strapped to his seat.

Chris wasn't amused by his behavior, "Are you going to shut up, or am I keeping my hand here for the entire ride?" His grip tightened, causing the sniper to whine and squirm.

"O-okay," Piers uttered from behind clenched teeth, "I won't- _ahh_," He inhaled sharply but unsteadily.

Chris eyed him for a few seconds longer before he released his hold, allowing the ace to gasp with a relief. Even if it hurt, the kid was still achingly hard when Chris let go. Whether Piers liked it or not, he couldn't deny that his body had. Piers tried to calm his breathing as he averted his gaze to the window and away from Chris while the older man pulled the vehicle out of the lot and onto the road. Surprisingly, he kept it fairly stable and controlled, but the Captain was still drunk off his feet and Piers was unsettled by it. Not to mention the fact that he had no way of knowing what exactly his superior had planned for him.

The ride was quiet, up until the times they would reach a red light and Chris would actually rub a hand over the bulge in the sniper's fatigues, causing a hitch in breath and soft gasps to emanate from his throat as his hips lifted upward into the touch the best they were able to. Occasionally Chris would squeeze just to hear Piers yelp, but it all served to keep him fully erect on the way to their destination.

When they finally stopped, Piers instantly recognized the location. Chris had brought to his own home with him, and the ace paled at the thought of what the drunken man wanted to do with him. Chris exited the vehicle and circled around to Piers' side to help him out and guide him up the walkway to the front door. Chris urged him inside before locking the door behind them. A hand clutched over one of the sniper's shoulders with a roughness as he instructed him to keep moving with him up the staircase. Piers nearly jumped out of his own skin the moment he was practically thrown into the bedroom, falling to the floor from the force of the push with a soft, "Oof!"

Chris was on him in an instant, throwing aside the jacket as he tore off his boots and tugged at his bottoms. Even his scarf was tossed away this time. The reality of the situation had sunk in, and Piers was in a panic. He was in Chris' home, locked away from the rest of the world so the older man could do whatever the hell he pleased. Once he was done... Piers would no doubt be left bound and discarded, where a sober Chris would be there in the morning to find him.

It was wrong, all of it.

Piers couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let Chris, _the real Chris_, know!

When Chris rolled him to his back, the ace thrashed under his grip. His arms were bound but his legs were free, and Piers didn't hesitate to lift a knee against his Captain's side.

Chris was furious at the attempt.

A meaty hand enclosed into a fist and repaid the smaller frame in kind with a collision into his ribs, shattering several upon impact that had Piers shouting under the pain as Chris prepared another blow. The sniper was faster and much more flexible with a foot that lifted to the Captain's head, causing it to jerk to the side.

It was a heated moment, a worse fight than any against B.O.W.s. This was Captain and protege, superior and subordinate. _Chris_ and _Piers_.

Piers never wanted to hurt Chris. He fought because the realization of everything that the Captain had done would hurt him more than a few bruises. But Chris... Overly drunk, he was aggressive and got off on the abuse, on causing pain to his beloved little pet sniper. It was sick and it was twisted, abnormal. A side of Chris that Piers would have never imagined could exist. Piers had concealed the entire truth from him for all this time, he _couldn't_ let Chris find out about it now.

But Chris clearly had the upper hand, even in his drunken state. With his larger build and both his hands free, the Captain pushed himself into a stand out of the reach of toned legs as the side of his face throbbed softly, a dim reminder of what Piers had tried. Chris was a powerhouse; durable and strong, years of fighting countless B.O.W.s with varying strengths had hardened him. He circled around Piers until he stood near his head. Bent in a crouch, the Captain sat the younger man up with a jerk from fingers that reached through his hair. His other arm wove itself around the sniper's neck as Chris backed himself up to sit at the edge of the bed, tightening his grip on Piers who kicked and squirmed helplessly in his arms as his oxygen was cut off.

With hands tied firmly behind his back, Piers could do little against the weight over his windpipe as his legs twitched and spasmed, bending at the knees simply to jolt outwards in a writhe. "I warned you, kid." Chris hissed from behind him, the words barely registered to his mind as his struggles weakened. Hazel eyes fluttered, stubbornly attempting to keep themselves open as the world around him started to darken, vision blurring from the lack of air. His body jerked, twisted one last time, before his movements slowed to a halt and his form went limp.

Chris released his hold, allowing air to automatically suck into needy lungs. Piers breathed in, body desperately requiring the oxygen now presented to it. But the ace was still out cold. Chris stood up and lifted him over to the side of the bed, where the older man hovered next to him with brown eyes that searched the younger features. Piers was so much more relaxed, the sternness he always carried with him had dissipated into a softened look as he lay there, unmoving all but for the gentle rise and fall of his chest cavity. Plump lips were slightly parted, yet oh so desirable in his vulnerable state. Chris eyed him thoughtfully as his hands undid his zipper and pulled his cock free, now fully sprung back to life. He couldn't deny how good the kid looked struggling against something that he had no hope of beating, with eyes ready to roll back in their sockets as he was denied oxygen. The sight had gone directly to the Captain's groin, and Chris wasn't passing up the opportunity.

Chris angled himself closer to those parted lips until his tip nudged at them, forcing them to open further as he slipped himself inside, shaft immediately greeted with a slick, welcoming warmth. Even in his unconscious state, as the cock was thrusted deep into the confines of Piers' throat, he started to reflexively gag against the pressure. Chris paid it no heed as he pulled himself far enough away until those lips were loosely wrapped over the cock head, then plunged back in without any sense of hesitation. His hand lowered to the sniper's chin with long fingers resting against his cheeks. Chris added pressure, causing the walls of the mouth he so openly violated to close in, helping things to feel as though he was receiving a proper blowjob.

Chris groaned low in his throat as Piers gagged on his length again, the kid had a perfect mouth. It was also what had started everything the very first day. His free hand reached for his scrotum to fondle with the sensitive sac as he guided himself in a rhythm in and out of that perfectly shaped moist orifice. Plump lips were forced to drag themselves across the length of his cock as he moved, with no firmness or pressure behind them that would have further heated things up. Chris buried himself in all the way and held it there, watching as a furrow formed over the ace's brow even in his unconscious state. His breathing was hindered as he choked against the meaty length forced down the span of his throat.

Drunk out of his mind, Chris thought it was fucking beautiful.

With a throaty moan, he started to move again, the bottom of his shaft shifted against the sniper's tongue with every plunge, and any time he stopped to hold himself in place, Chris could feel the muscle twitch against his prick oh so perfectly.

Desperate now for satisfaction, both of his hands moved to grip a hold over the ace's head as he slammed himself in with repeated motions, striving for a needed release as he nearly broke Piers' jaw from the intensity of his own thrusts, stopping only when he felt himself explode inside the oral cavity, where he kept his cock lodged in place until he was sure that the larger portion of fluids had been forced down the tight throat. A small trail of white managed to slip from a corner of pouted lips where it drizzled across the skin, unattended.

Once finished, Chris retracted and slipped himself back inside his fatigues. He reached out, thumb roamed over the fullness of Piers' bottom tier, slightly more puffed than usual after the recent events. Chris let his hand fall away and left the jism in place over softened features. It was a nice touch, made sure the kid really did look like some sort of whore.

Sparing one last glance to Piers, the Captain moved to the opposite side of the bed and collapsed next to the unconscious form, soon falling into a dreamless sleep beside him.

* * *

Pain.

A throbbing expanded all across his head, making his own heartbeat a killer sound to his ear drums. Chris audibly groaned, hands finding their way to his eyes where they rested briefly in place until he sat up. The last thing he remembered was being upset, needing a drink after the issue with Piers. The younger man had been so evasive, so intent on keeping his little secret that anyone else would have been infuriated.

Not that Chris hadn't been.

Piers could be just as stubborn as he was, and the sniper kept his mouth firmly shut. Chris didn't have a chance at prying it out of him if Piers didn't want to openly share that information. Damn it all to hell.

Brown eyes blinked, adjusting to the light that leaked in from behind thin curtains. Chris made a move to swing his legs over the side of the bed, only to pause when he heard a shuffle that hadn't come from his own body. A glance to the side had him openly gasp, eyes suddenly unsure of themselves as they landed on the familiar lean body, beaten and bound in his own bed. The already head pounding thump of his heart increased its pace, becoming more frequent to his own ears as it hammered away. Chris leaned over, one hand raised to tilt the sniper's head toward him, wincing slightly at the trickles of blood that dripped in rivulets down the side of his face from his temple, now dry and stuck to his skin. What made things worse, was the trail of white marking along one of the corners of his mouth. That wasn't...

"...Piers?" Chris tried to wake him, voice cracked around the edges as he spoke the name to no effect.

Finn. Finn had told him that he found Piers in a similar fashion, bound and abused... In his office. Now, the sniper was in his own bed. But how? Chris didn't even remember-

Drinking. He'd been drinking both days it happened. But he couldn't have possibly...

Chris swallowed, suddenly unsure of himself. Piers was out of it and hurt. Chris tipped him over, just enough to reach the belt and untie it from his wrists before he was on his feet, walking over to the other side of the bed to lift the limp body into his arms. He needed Piers awake.

He needed _answers_.

Chris carried the lean figure into the bathroom, where he carefully set him into the tub and reached for the knob to turn on the water. It spurted to life, delivering a soft shower that had Piers groaning. Chris turned it up, and deft hands rose to cover the sniper's face on instinct as he coughed, throat sore from the abuse of the night prior. He had no knowledge of the forced blowjob, just the after taste as the water shut itself off, allowing his hands to lower themselves as hazel eyes fluttered open. Normally spiked bangs were drooped downward over his forehead from the dampness, the water did little to wash away the grime still latched against the side of his head.

Piers breathed shallowly as the world set itself back into place and he turned, hazel finding brown. Chris was tense, hurt and unsure. Two hearts hammered in unison within the walls of the bathroom, a quickened pace so near to exploding.

Chris was the one to break the silence, his voice riddled with cracks and lacking its usual strength. The firmness was gone, all evidence of his stature as Captain went out the window at the sound.

"Piers... Why didn't you tell me?"


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: The conflict isn't over yet, even after this chapter... P: Enjoy the early update! c: This one focuses mainly on the confrontation, so there's no sexual content this time around. Thanks again for all the reviews, guys! x3**

* * *

Everything Piers had fought to hide came crumbling down around his ears in a single moment. Chris _knew_. He'd found out, despite how hard Piers had tried to prevent it. Now here he was, getting stared down by the older man in search of answers, and he wasn't even sure if he could give them.

With hazel locked to brown, Piers kept his silence.

Chris tightened his grip, hands placed over the edge of the tub as he lowered himself from a bend into a crouch, putting the two of them at a closer eye level. Chris was tense, muscles contracting as he tried to take in everything. The things he woke up to, what he'd heard from Finn, and now the look Piers had given him; reluctant, defeated. There was something else mingled within, but the Captain couldn't figure out what it was. Chris breathed in deep inhales, trying hard to calm his own nerves and pounding heart as he eyed the younger man. The silence was unnerving, only serving to riddle his reality with more holes that did wonders to his sanity.

Chris wished it wasn't true. Wished that none of it had ever happened. But the evidence, the look he received from hazel orbs told him every dirty little detail. He couldn't remember them on his own, he didn't even know how much he had done. But one thing was for damn sure.

Chris was responsible.

For _everything_.

The silence was killing him, "Goddamn it, Piers! Talk to me! I need-" What, to know the truth? He already did. "I want-..." All of it to go away, to go back to being the nasty lie that Piers had kept hidden inside. His legs folded in on themselves, suddenly too unsteady to keep him upright even in a crouch, and Chris collapsed into a sit on the floor. Meaty hands raised to clamp over his face, still in a state of shock. He couldn't believe it. His palms edged upward where fingers tangled in his own hair, head lowered toward the ground.

It was everything Piers had feared, and things had only just started. The sniper observed the older man, every sharp intake of breath, every slump of powerful shoulders. What could he say? That he was trying to protect Chris from what he'd done, yet allowed things to worsen by not doing something to stop them? It was the truth that led them there. "You didn't need to know." Quiet, more simple. Chris would have been better off if he didn't find out, even if he ultimately shredded Piers into pieces. The ace was loyal and dedicated, even when Chris was aggressively drunk.

Chris tore his hands away and his head shot up, gaze immediately returned to the sniper. "I _didn't need to know_? Piers, I had every right to! Look at you! You're a damn mess and covered in bruises!" The voice came out in a sharpened yell, and Chris had to pause in an attempt to soften his tone and still his breathing. Losing control wasn't helping the situation, but damn it if what he'd just learned wasn't driving him _insane_. "You should have told me, right from the start."

Piers eyed him from his position, body even more sore and aching than the last time. "Do you really think that would have made things any better?" He retorted, knowing full well that even if he had come clean from the start, Chris would have still found out about it, and thus, he would have still had to cope. Maybe lying wasn't the best thing to do, but telling the whole damn truth wouldn't have caused the reaction to be any less of a devastated one. The Captain would have been torn no matter how Piers had played it, and willingly confessing would have been difficult, especially if it involved sharing his own reluctant feelings on the matter.

Chris snapped at that, "You're damn right! It would have been a hell of a lot easier on us both! Look at where we are now, Piers! I shouldn't... I shouldn't have had to find out this way." But he _should_ have known. He could have done more, or tried to - he wasn't even aware of the full extent of damage.

Piers averted his gaze to the ceiling at that, no longer wanting to watch the other man or see the pain mingled with the anger that burnt in his Captain's eyes. "You shouldn't have found out at all," It was a quiet murmur, barely audible to his own ears. He didn't want this, he never planned for Chris to find out.

"The damage," Chris had said as he forced himself back to his knees, palms returning to a resting position against the side of the tub while he watched the ace. "How bad?"

Piers didn't turn back toward him as he tried to sit up, only for a hand to put itself over his chest with a weight behind it that pushed him back down and pinned him in place. His breathing hitched, memories from before returning to mind as a pleasant tingle rolled across the curve of his spine. He forced himself to shake the thought to avoid an unwanted arousal, raising his arms to pull at Chris' wrist in an attempt to get him off so he could stand up and go. "You already know enough, I'm grabbing my things and leav-"

A second hand joined the first at his chest as Chris leaned over the tub, a slight narrow to his dark eyes. "The secret's already out, Piers. I need to know!" He was desperate, he had to find out everything that happened. What he did, how far he went.

Hazel shot up at that, "Get off!" The sniper's hands were back to tugging at the arms pinning him under their weight, body shifting within the confines of the tub so much that Chris had literally thrown one leg in after the next to practically climb on top of him and prevent him from slipping free. He was so close, sitting over the ace's legs to keep them from kicking. The proximity had Piers' skin crawling with a sudden wave of heat, and he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there before things became even worse. Adrenaline and paranoia blurred his reflexes and state of mind into a defensive mode similar to the night prior. Without even thinking about it, Piers shot out with a closed fist that collided with his Captain's jaw.

Time seemed to slow after that. Piers realized what he did the moment brown settled back over him, shock clearly nestled within their depths as meaty hands withdrew from their position atop the bared chest to grip a hold over the ace's wrists and pin them against the back of the tub next to his head. Piers tensed underneath him, and hazel grew a size larger as Chris hovered over him. The sniper breathed in hard, arms attempting to twist free from under the strong grip. "Captain, _stop_!" The tone was bordering on sounding frantic. He didn't want Chris to see him like that, didn't want him to know-

"Calm down!"

The voice cut through his thoughts in an instant, but Piers didn't halt his movements. Everything he endured from Chris in his drunken state was bad enough, but to be in a similar situation when the man was sober was terrifying. Chris meant no harm, he only wanted answers; the sniper knew that in his mind, but his body acted on instinct. The struggles only caused his figure to weep sweat from every pore, salty droplets that trickled down the span of his bared flesh as the unwanted heat returned. "Ngh, let go!"

Chris had to tighten his grip, albeit reluctantly. "Piers, please!" He was trying to talk sense into the younger man, get him to settle down and open up to him about what happened. Chris hadn't expected him to react so... _Violently_. Chris couldn't fathom what he'd done to provoke it. The bruises, the marks... It went beyond those. He knew it, he just didn't know the details. "Talk to me, Piers! Stop acting like this!"

Piers gave a last solid jerk of his body in an attempt to squirm free, still to no avail. He only succeeded in hurting himself as his broken ribs ground themselves under his skin. With a grunt, he relaxed his muscles and fell slack underneath the older man's hold. His breathing was ragged and uncontrolled, and hazel sought to look anywhere but at Chris.

The Captain sighed, a small sense of relief that allowed his racing heart to calm just the slightest. "Now... You want to tell me what that was about, or are we going to sit here until you change your mind?" He loosened his hold just a bit to show that he wasn't trying to hurt Piers, but it remained strong enough that he could keep him in place should he show any more hostility.

Piers closed his eyes tight, jaw tensed as he tried to will away the reality surrounding him. The scent from Chris hit his nostrils in waves, mingled with the still present but feint smell of sex. Chris probably hadn't caught onto it, given everything that happened and the initial shock he'd experienced upon waking up. Piers inhaled, slowly allowing his breathing to steady itself as his own heart began to slow its beating. "Don't ask me that."

"Piers..."

"Captain, no." Hazel reopened, hesitantly seeking out brown. "I-" He wasn't sure he knew the right words to use. "I don't want to talk about it."

Chris eyed him for a moment, watching the flashes he saw within those piercing eyes. Hurt, betrayal, yet there was still something else... "You can't keep doing this." He was firm, but never forceful. Piers had to remind himself that it was Chris he was dealing with, _his Chris_, who would never intentionally cause him harm. "Whether you want to or not, it's already too late to continue hiding." Slowly, Chris withdrew. His hands retracted from around slimmer wrists to allow them free movement, but he stayed ready just in case.

Piers lowered his arms from the position they'd been put into. "Take a good look, Captain. If you want the truth, there's plenty of evidence." That there was. But Chris hadn't seen the trickles of white that mixed with those of crimson and seeped from his torn pucker, nor did he see the still aching burn from the cigarette that marked over his ass cheek.

Chris had, however, noticed the trail that descended from the corner of plump, swollen lips since the start. A hand reached out to cup under the sniper's chin where he angled his head ever so slightly to the side, while the rough pad of his thumb roamed over the white. "Is this...?" He was afraid to finish the question.

Piers looked away, hazel aimed off to the side somewhere. "I don't know." It certainly tasted like it.

"You don't know? Piers, how the hell-"

"You knocked me out." Piers cut in, causing the words to die on the Captain's lips as he spoke. "With an arm around my throat. Still so sure you want the whole truth, Captain? I wasn't conscious to know everything that you did, but I can sure as hell taste it!" Piers raised a hand to slap away the one at his chin, and hazel returned to brown with a sudden narrow. Sharp. Accusing.

Chris inhaled unsteadily. He'd choked Piers? Even while the man was bound at the wrists? Chris couldn't imagine that, or how terrifying it would have been to be on the receiving end. Not to mention whatever Chris had done afterwards... "Piers, I-"

But the younger man wouldn't let him speak, "Get off me." Deft hands nudged at the larger frame, insistent that he move. The argument had his body heat rising, the hold Chris had previously taken over him to keep him pinned had familiar tingles of excitement coursing through his system. Piers needed distance, he couldn't let Chris know about his unwanted, _twisted_ sense of masochism... How he enjoyed the abuse, enjoyed Chris being an uncaring asshole that forced him into submission. Anger was his mask, the cover for the red hue that showed itself over his skin. Piers glowered at his Captain.

Chris hesitated under the heated gaze, before a deep sigh resounded and he backed away, standing up just to swing his feet one at a time over the side of the tub down to the tile of the floor. "Piers, I don't-... I would never-"

"Get out." Piers may have been in Chris' home, but it hadn't been willingly. He earned some privacy after being so utterly humiliated by the older man, whether he remembered it or not. He also needed to cool himself down before his body started to betray him further with a raging hard-on. That was the last thing he needed to be caught with in front of Chris, especially now.

Chris wasn't sure what he felt. Hurt and regret made themselves well known, yet anger laced itself in with them at the sniper's reluctance to explain more. Chris needed to know what he did, how badly he had damaged Piers and if there was a way to fix it. "Fine," His voice returned, stronger now. "Clean up. I'm calling in for the both of us, you're not leaving until we talk more about this." Chris turned with that and retreated through the door, closing it behind him before the ace could utter any form of a reply. He collapsed on the edge of the bed with his head dipped low, eyes shut tight.

No more alcohol. No more pain.

_Piers... What the hell did I do to you?_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: The next chapter! I had a few people requesting more of this, so here it is. c: Again, thank you all so much for the reviews/favs/follows!**

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Piers was devastated, in more ways than one. Not only did Chris know, but he expected further answers and intended for more prying. Piers didn't want to tell him the reason, the _real_ reason behind his silence. He thought it had been to protect Chris from his own crimes at first, which in itself was partially true, but the overwhelming desire that had built itself from being at his Captain's mercy was something he did not want to voice aloud to Chris.

What would he think, if he knew?

Would be be disgusted? Disappointed? Sickened to the point of forcing him to transfer to a different unit?

The sniper sighed, body still limp within the tub as the thoughts ran through his mind. Chris would find out everything, every dirty little secret that Piers had been keeping and it would tear him to pieces hearing it. Maybe he could alter the story, tell more lies-

But then Chris would eventually find out about those, too.

Piers slammed a hand down against the side of the tub in irritation. There was no avoiding it now, judgement day had come and it would spare no one; both he and Chris were left to pay the ultimate price.

Slowly, Piers lifted himself into a stand with an audible groan as he felt the stretch in his rectum, still so utterly tender from the abuse it had received the past few days. He turned on the water with the twist of the knobs, desperate to cleanse away the filthiness of the night before. The mixture of cum and blood still dripped down the inner part of his thigh, he was fortunate that Chris hadn't noticed it like he did the dried liquid over his temple and at the corner of his mouth. Piers made sure it was all scrubbed off, and that most of the evidence was disposed of.

The water caused the burn over his ass cheek to sting under the contact, and at the rate things were going, he'd be lucky if it wasn't already infected. Still, it was a small thing compared to some of the other stuff that had been forced upon him... And nothing would stand up to the fact that he no longer had a choice but to come clean, now that Chris knew he was responsible for so much damage. The older man would never let it rest, even after he had his answers.

Piers sighed with a hand placed to the wall, head dipped forward under the steady stream from above that trickled warm rivulets over his scalp and down the length of his face. He should have known it would come to that, he should have been prepared for the day when Chris found out. As it was, he'd be walking right back into that room in nothing but a towel, and ninety percent of the damage would still be in plain sight. Everything that Chris hadn't caught on to the first time, he would now.

The sniper shut off the water and stepped out of the tub to grab a towel that he used to briefly roam through his hair until it was dry, then lowered it down the span of his shoulders where it eventually came to a rest at his hips. Piers wrapped it in place there and moved toward the door; his hand hovered over the knob, but he was hesitant to twist it. Sooner or later, Chris would come back in anyway if Piers took too long, so the sniper relented and finally came out of the room.

Chris was at the end of the bed, brown eyes lowered to the floor while deep in thought, he hardly registered Piers as being nearby even as the sniper approached. Piers could have taken it as a way to get out, to leave and postpone the inevitable encounter for a while longer, but he couldn't bring himself to do so after seeing his Captain so... _Torn_. It wasn't until a few moments later that the older man had eventually taken notice of Piers from the corner of his eye. He didn't bother to turn or stand up.

"No more bullshit, Piers." Chris uttered, his voice at the edge of hearing as though he could barely work up the will to talk. He placed a palm to the sheets next to him and patted at them without raising his eyes from the floor, a small indication that told the sniper he wanted him to sit.

Piers obeyed with slow steps, and lowered himself onto the mattress next to his Captain. Hazel gazed over lightly tanned features; rough and worn, tormented by the news Chris had only so recently found out about. "Captain-"

"Don't lie to me," Chris cut him off as brown eyes slid into a close, his facial structure tense with painful emotions. "The _truth_. I want the truth, Piers... All of it. I don't care how bad or how messy things were, I need..." He paused to swallow hard and reopen his lids. His gaze swung over to the side to finally meet the ace eye-to-eye. "I _have_ to know."

Piers nearly cringed at the sight as agonized brown looked toward him. It was the sniper who averted his stare, where it focused instead at the distant wall ahead of him nearby the door to his only exit. "I'm sure you can guess what happened on your own." He didn't want to have to say it himself.

"_Piers_." Stern, needy. Chris wasn't giving up.

Piers couldn't face the older man now as he leaned forward to rest his elbows over his knees, similar to the Captain's positioning. "The night we came back from the last mission... I followed you to the gym after hours." He didn't know what he was doing or why he even tried to explain the situation at all. Maybe it was because he was so damn tired of fighting everything from his raging emotions, to what he wanted from Chris even though he tried so hard to deny it. But Chris was there now, _listening_, waiting for more. "You were still upset so I tried to calm you down, but it only made things worse." He left out the part about the blowjob, it was better left unsaid that Piers had, in a small way, been responsible for what took place between them. His actions had been what led up to it, after all. He should have just walked away, things would have been a lot much better if he would have just done so.

Piers hesitated to continue, unsure how to find the right words. Chris urged him on, "Don't stop."

The sniper rolled his shoulders, "You told me to get undressed." He winced as the words fell from his lips, and Chris hissed beside him while he turned to look away. "I should have said no," Piers admitted, "But I wanted to... I just wanted to help. I never thought it would actually go as far as it did."

Chris dipped his head forward to place it back within his palms with fingers that clutched tight holds of his hair. "What happened, Piers?" He could barely stomach everything he'd heard so far, and things were only getting worse.

A slick tongue dived out to wash over full tiers and cover them with moist. Some details could get left out, "You took what you wanted and left me there for hours, bent over and bound." Piers shuddered at the memory, how unpleasant everything had been at first before... Before he'd realized just how much he'd started to enjoy it the deeper he was fucked. Piers heard a hitch in his Captain's breathing, and he didn't dare to look over now. "You came back though, just to drag me to your office where you repeated the process and then went home. I was stuck there the entire night."

Chris breathed in heavy, unstable breaths. "That's why Finn found you the way he did." He nearly choked on the words as they came out, slow and hitched.

Piers gave a single small nod, even if Chris couldn't quite see it. "Yeah," He confirmed, his voice equally as quiet.

Chris removed his head from his hands to look up again, body tense as he took in the information. Piers wasn't as descriptive as he could have been, Chris could tell that from the way he'd spoke. He was choosing his words as carefully as he could, yet what he did say was still enough to paint a nasty image of the Captain's deeds. "And last night?"

Piers took the risk of tilting his head enough for hazel to level with brown. "You found me in the locker room on my way out. The same thing happened, only this last time you pulled me out to your car and we ended up here."

Chris stood up with a suddenness to pace around the floor not far from Piers. A meaty hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he tried to cope with everything. "You should have done something," He paused to point a finger at the ace, "Piers, you should have told me so it wouldn't happen again! I _can't_... I can't even-" Believe it? He didn't want to, that much was certain. "You know I never would have-"

"Yeah, I do." Piers snapped, harshly enough to make them both wince from the sound alone. Chris had become visibly confused, the furrow in his brow and look in his eyes were now mixtures of emotional torment and inability to understand why Piers suddenly seemed so much more angry than he'd been since they'd woken up. "I _do_ know you would never do something like that," The sniper continued as he rose to his own feet and slowly strode toward the older man. "And you know what, Chris?" Chris. Not Captain, not sir. Not _now_. "That's part of the fucking problem!" Both hands shot out to collide with Chris' chest, hard enough to make him stumble slightly with widened oculars.

"Piers! What-" Another hard shove had Chris backed up against a wall.

"Isn't it obvious?" The sniper was fuming now, torn with the knowledge that there would be no more hiding. All his feelings and hidden desires, they would all come pooling out into one large confession that lasted less than an hour. "You _hurt_ me. You _humiliated_ me, and treated me like some damn _pet_!" Deft hands placed themselves back over muscled contours where they held firm, this time without the pressure behind them. "The best part of it? In some _sick_ way... I enjoyed every bit of it." There, it was finished. Piers could forget about it now, move on to something different - Chris was bound to want to get rid of him after that little secret.

Hazel held firm to surprised brown as the ace withdrew, jaw so tense that he was sure his gums bled. "I'll get my things and leave." His tone fell into a whisper, still harsh around the edges as he turned. A meaty hand reached for his arm to make him pause in place. Piers didn't look back.

Chris inhaled sharply as his heart beat hard in his chest. His entire body shook uncharacteristically, and he didn't want to register the things he'd just heard as being real. "Is that-" He paused to clear his throat and strengthen it, "Is that why you hid the truth from me?"

"Mostly," Piers confessed as he attempted to pull his arm loose. Chris held firm, not wanting the sniper to go just yet. "You said it yourself. You'd have never willingly done that. If you never found out about this-" He cut himself off, deciding it was better to not continue.

But Chris already knew where he was headed with the comment. "I would have kept drinking, and the process would repeat..." He uttered as masculine features curved into a pained expression. Piers wanted him to be that... That _monster_ he became only after he reached the bottom of the bottle. "You really prefer it that way?" It was eating away at him, the conflicting hurt and approaching anger. His grip tightened without him even realizing it, and Piers nearly winced under the pressure. "You _like_ it when I'm not in control?" Chris tugged at the sniper until he turned, so that another meaty fist could grip over the opposite arm and hold firm. "That's what you want me to be?" He pushed until Piers had no choice but to walk backward or stumble to the floor. "After all these years, Piers... How could you say something like that?" The sniper's legs collided with the end of the bed and bent themselves, dropping him back into a sit over the mattress.

"You're the one who wanted the truth! You got exactly what you asked for!" A hand to his chest had Piers thrown back, now flat against the surface of sheets as Chris loomed over him.

Meaty hands repositioned themselves over slimmer wrists and pinned them to the mattress, "This is what you want?" Chris pried further with narrowed eyes as the sniper squirmed uncomfortably under him. "I thought you liked it this way," They were chest to chest now, and Piers was the one breathing hard. He turned his head away, no longer able to look at the older man in his current state.

Chris paused, his breath tickled over the span of the sniper's neck below him. "The problem with your fantasy, Piers... Is that I'm not like that." Stern and matter-of-factly. Chris withdrew himself back into a stand, "Who _really_ got taken advantage of?" He stepped away as Piers lifted himself up onto his elbows.

Plump lips formed into a frown at their corners, and the ace should have known it would end that way. Nothing good could have ever come from a confession so... So _cold_. Now Chris knew, and he was anything but pleased with it. Piers couldn't even look him in the eye anymore.

"You can go now, Piers." Chris stated as he turned his back, thinking of the deeply kept secret as a harsh betrayal. "Take a few days. I don't want to see you back on base until I say so." He was angry, his blood boiled like acid through his veins. He was mad at Piers, mad at himself, at everything that had taken place. It ruined the relationship they'd built, the camaraderie. It butchered their partnership.

"Captain..." The word was barely audible as it rolled off the sniper's tongue. Piers hadn't meant for something like that, even if it was a likely result.

"Now, Piers." Chris offered no choice.

The ace slunk off the edge of the bed to grab for his clothes and slip them back on. As he straightened himself, Piers hesitated. He didn't want to leave anymore, not after all that had just happened. "For what it's worth, Captain... I tried to fight it." Piers headed toward the door after that and turned the knob. He paused, "I would have thought you'd be the one to understand what it was like to enjoy something that was otherwise off limits. The way I see it, you weren't acting much different than your own Captain used to."

Chris tensed under the words. He swung around fully prepared to start another argument, but the door slid shut just as he opened his mouth to speak. Piers had delved into sensitive territory, and it only served to worsen the situation even further. With a suddenness, Chris turned and flipped over the mattress as an outcry tore itself from his throat. The world had managed to fully collapse around them in a single day, and he was torn in a dozen different ways from the _hurt_, the _anger_, the _confusion_. A meaty fist collided down atop a small dresser, where it placed a dent into the smooth surface. He slammed his other hand into the side of it to topple it over only a moment later.

He really had lost it.

Downstairs, Piers paused at the door once he heard his Captain start to tear apart the room above. It was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid in the days prior. Hazel eyes closed for a moment where they willed away the temptation to go back, then fluttered just as he threw open the door and left the household without any further delay. Normally, he would have wanted to go back, to _stay_, but Chris had made his decision clear.

Maybe things were better off that way... Piers hated the thought of that being true. As it was, he may never again see his beloved Captain, or get to join Alpha out on the field for another mission. All of it started because of his desire to comfort Chris, and that was what made things even more horrible. Pain was a feeling he knew well, but the emotional stress always bore over his shoulders with a much harder intensity. Something that had started with a good intention didn't take long to make a wrong turn, and it left them both shattered in the end.

Piers didn't want to go home and he no longer wished to stay. For the first time, he found himself truly lost and unsure where to go or what to do. He just needed to put some distance between them... Even if it served to hurt him even more. He was a soldier, he could endure the hardships of life; but that didn't mean his limit was out of reach. He respected Chris, he would have even given the man anything that he'd asked for. One night was all it took to build a barrier between them, and Piers was the one who plowed through it with a sledgehammer that sent the wall crumbling down over his Captain. Everything had caved inward after a matter of minutes, and as much as Piers wanted to repair the damage, he couldn't say he wanted to take away the things Chris had done in his drunken state.

It was sick and it was twisted, overall it was completely _wrong_. But they helped Piers see something there that he hadn't before, and now that Chris knew all he could do was push him away and deny him the access he so desperately craved. It was a non-stop torment, and Piers wasn't sure what to do about it. On the field, he knew his options. Decisions formed themselves with ease, but out in the real world... He was at a loss. His life was his job and he had no time for personal endeavors. The entire situation was unknown to him, and it left his mind in a jumbled mess.

So, he walked through the streets aimlessly with no idea of where he was going.

As he went, the sniper dug into one of his pockets in search of something; as presumed, his phone was still safely snug inside one of them and undamaged even after being thrown around the night before. He squeezed it in an iron grip, the last remaining string that connected him to his Captain. Chris had said he wouldn't be welcomed back until he gave the okay, and considering their current predicament Piers held no hopes that he would ever hear back from the older man. Still, it was one of the few ways of reaching him with ease.

Piers turned as a wave of anger rolled over his shoulders. Everything that happened, all that he'd done. Nothing mattered but that moment, when the realization hit that the only thing he cared about was now far out of reach.

In an instant, the phone was thrown into the nearest ally where it collided against a brick wall and cluttered to the ground in pieces. The sniper huffed, hazel orbs narrowed as they stared momentarily at the broken shards before he was on his way again. He wouldn't need it anymore.

Piers wasn't sure he wanted to be found again.


End file.
